Academically Speaking
by Andil
Summary: Hermione asks Snape for an apprenticeship. But when he agrees she does not realize what the position truly entails, nor the fact that Severus truly is as snarky as he appears to be. Newly added the long awaited ch. 24!
1. The First Mistake

**Academically Speaking: Knowledge Comes with Hardships**

A/N: Above is the full title, it wouldn't let me put the whole thing on as a title, so I shortenedit. This is in response to the 'A Deeply Horrible Person' Challenge on WIKTT. I have always viewed Snape as a not really pleasant man to begin with, and I thought this was a good way to show it.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never is, never will be. Sigh And the millions that J.K. Rowling gets for this would be ever so nice too... lol.

**_Chapter 1- The First Mistake_**

It was finally over. The seven-year reign of none other than the oh-so-perfect Harry Potter and his perfect-by-association sidekicks was over; finally, if it had not gone through his mind before. It had though, many times, in fact almost every day for the past seven years that he had started to count down the days that the boy would leave, and the James Potter look alike would be gone from his vision forever. He honestly did not need a reminder of his childhood walking around.

In the background he could hear Dumbledore give praises to his 'precious Gryffindors' by name. Neville for his excellence in botany- with no mention of the extensive budget decrease due to how many cauldrons the boy melted over the years, he noticed. And then came the trio- Potter, the idiotic bumbling Weasley, and Granger. Oh, who could forget her? The girl was a walking library after all, knew everything about everything. She should have just simply started in the advanced classes and gotten it over and done with. He oddly felt himself snorting as the headmaster rattled on with her millions of overachievements and wondrous academic skills.

None to soon the ceremony was over with and he quickly retreated to his quarters. He simply despised having people come up to him and give him false praises for his teaching skills, or students, then having graduated, to come up and give him their true thoughts of him. Not that he would deny what they would say, but it was still an annoyance that he wished to avoid. Before he was able to do his annual reflection of who graduated, and good riddance to the fact that they are gone, an owl came through the lab door, and landed in front of him on his coffee table, looking none too happy about the window arrangements. For some reason he felt compelled to answer it. "If you are inquiring an apology for having only one small window which is located within my private laboratory, you are rather mistaken. If it wasn't for the necessity of ventilation, it would not be there at all, and then what would you be doing?" He raised an eyebrow at the bird as he took the letter and it ruffled its feathers at him.

He tore his attention away from his small intruder to the letter. The insignia on the back was enough alone to make his stomach drop. HG. It only meant one thing, Hermione Granger. She was gone now, what in the world would she possibly want from him now?

After resisting the urge of just tossing the thing into the fire he opened it, and stared at it blankly. The girl was mad... But it held so many possibilities. He read the note again.

_Professor Severus Snape,_

_I write you this letter to inquire about an apprenticeship with you. After many hours of research, I have found that you are the highest rated Potions Master in all of Europe, and I believe that I would find the most challenge under you. I have contemplated going to university, but after reading, and completing their entire curriculum, I don't believe that I will gain my full potential there. I do hope that you consider my proposal, and shall eagerly await your response._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione Granger _

As he read over the letter again his the corner of his lips started to twitch upwards. Yes, there were definitely many possibilities... And obviously the silly girl had no idea what she was getting herself into.

While he started to write a return letter to the girl, the thought that she had no idea what a true potions apprenticeship meant crossed his mind, and he immediately threw out the idea of informing her of it. After all, what fun would it be, if she knew?

Just before Hermione boarded the train home the owl returned to her, holding a letter. She frowned at the bird but took it anyways. "Did you find him?" The bird chirped in confirmation and her brows furrowed. She looked at the seal. SS. Severus Snape. How odd. She really didn't expect to receive a response so soon. She hesitantly opened it, expecting the worst. After all it WAS Snape she was writing.

She had barely skimmed it before a smile broke out on her face. She then kissed the bird. "THANK YOU!"

"'Mione! Will you come on already; the train is going to leave any minute. Honestly if I didn't know any better I would think that you wanted to just stay and live there."

She looked up to Ron. "I'm coming Ron, I have something I need to tell you!" She then nearly ran up the steps of the train. "Come on Ron, we need to find Harry."

He gave her a strange look. "What in the world is so bloody important, 'Mione?" When she didn't respond, but instead bound down the narrow train corridor, he followed. Finally, towards the back of the train, they found Harry.

"Hey guys, what took so long?"

Ron shrugged. "'Mione here has got some sort of news for us I am guessing." They both looked over to her.

She half squealed in excitement as she plopped down in between them on the train bench. "You won't believe what has just happened."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look and Harry offered his guess. "You got accepted into your next advance in your academic career? It isn't really surprising considering your NEWT scores."

"Actually, you are rather correct, Harry. Although, I don't believe you know the full extent. I already finished the full first and second year of university during this last year."

Ron interrupted, "Not really surprising, that." Harry nodded.

She playfully hit Ron's arm. "Honestly, let me finish. As I was saying, I finished the next two years, and I realized that if I really wished to become a potion's mistress I would have to work one on one with one of the best. I have been accepted as apprentice by none other than Professor Snape."

As Harry nodded in quiet agreement Ron's jaw dropped open in horror. "Have you gone mad? Tell me you are joking Hermione, _I PLEASE /I _tell me you are joking.

She looked back down to her note.

_Miss Granger,_

_I desire to inform you that your letter first and foremost surprised me; simply upon the fact that it is the first inquiry I have ever received. I shall also like to congratulate you upon your high potions marks- I do not make the test at all easy. If you desire to be my apprentice, than you may be so. Simply arrive at the Three Broomsticks at precisely three o'clock to discuss the finer points of the arrangements, and to sign the agreement. If you are still interested, I shall see you then._

_Professor S. Snape_

As she read the letter a small smile formed upon her lips. "No Ron, I'm not."

A/N- I hope you enjoyed this, and as always please review. :D


	2. Rons Little Surprise

A/N- Thank you for your reviews, and I hope that you keep reading, and are as equally intrigued by this chapter as the last.

Disclaimer- IT IS NOT MINE. So stop asking. LoL.

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**_Chapter 2- Ron's Little Surprise_**

Ron stared at Hermione, his jaw dropping practically to his chest as he did so. "You're mad, Hermione, simply and completely, stark raving mad."

"I'm not! He is brilliant, and I want the best education available. Honestly Ron, you should know that much about me by now."

"But 'Mione, you don't know what is included in a potions apprenticeship. My uncle, he-"

She interrupted, "Stop Ron, I don't want to hear the _misfortune_ of your uncle. I have read about apprenticeships, and it merely means that I will practically belong to him. Besides, I believe that underneath it all, Snape isn't really all that bad, just… Just misunderstood is all." She spoke it, trying to convince herself of the same words that she was trying to convince him of. He wasn't bad… He wasn't bad… Was he? _No, Hermione, focus; this is your education at stake here._

"He went to Azkaban! His apprenticeship drove him mad, and Snape is far worse than the man he studied under!"

She set her jaw. "RON, I will be _fine._"

Ron went to open his mouth again, but Harry interrupted him. "Will you guys stop already? We just graduated, enjoy it for a few minutes." Just as he seen them open their mouth with 'but-' trying to roll of their tongues, he quickly continued. "And I agree with both of you- Snape is misunderstood, but I also agree with Ron. It _is _Snape, and you have to be careful. While he probably won't kill you, he would probably mess with you a bit. Remember- I actually had to work with him for a year before we were able to defeat Voldem-" Harry's face suddenly went pale and his lips became thin; as if he had just seen a ghost. He spoke in a whisper, strained as his throat closed on him, "Before you know when…" He turned to the window as Hermione and Ron exchanged a look of worry, and they continued the ride in silence.

Snape paced his room. What in the world would he wear to this so-called 'meeting'? Not that he cared, but for appearances sake… For how would an apprentice amuse him, if he scared them away before the contract was ever signed? It would be such a pity really. It wasn't as if people were trying to break down his door for his 'special' tutelage. In fact, this was the first time ever, in the twenty some odd-years since he had started teaching, that anyone at all had ever come to him about furthering their education in Potions. And as far as he knew, only one other student had pursued Potions after they had graduated whilst he was teaching; and that had been a son of one of the Deatheaters, who was sort of… forced into that situation at the university by his father.

He scoffed at himself, and finally just marched up to his closet, grabbed a pair of black casual robes (which, truth be told, was more or less all he really owned anyways- outside of the regular teaching robes that is…), threw them on the bed, and transfigured them into a nice dress robe set. "That will have to do," he spoke to no one. He then changed into them, and then went to the bathroom to look into the mirror. He attempted a small smile, which turned out to be more like a grimace. "Bloody hell." He opted for the 'bored' look instead.

He went to the desk inside of his private rooms, and sat down heavily. He leaned back and crossed his legs, crossing his finger over his upraised knee. He could feel his lip twitch up into a sneer as he pondered the odd situation. Sure, the Granger girl would be a pain, but if he could stump her at least once, then it would all be worth it; and if the insolent girl thought that she was going to be getting it easy, she was dead wrong.

At this thought he took out his wand and pointed it behind his head at the painting hanging there. "Finite incantatum." As he said the words, he turned around, facing what had once been the painting. In its stead was a framed document. This time he genuinely smiled, with a soft chuckle, emanating from the back of his throat like harsh velvet. He regarded it for a moment before he made his decision. Yes… It was perfect…

He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Strictum scribere." A piece of paper started to form at the end of his wand, slowly sculpting itself in the _almost_ exact image of the paper that he was copying. Finally, it was done, and he caught it in mid-air as it started to fall to the ground. He looked at it, noticing that the spell had gone correctly as he remembered it should. The only thing left to do, was inscribe the names…

As soon as the trio had got off the train, Mrs. Weasley greeted them, and invited them all to stay at the Burrow- seeing as Harry was already family, and Hermione didn't… really… have a home _left _to go home to. Of course she didn't bring that fact up to Hermione, though, but it went into her reasoning.

They were soon there, and the boys unpacked, but Ron noticed that there was something that Hermione wasn't doing. "'Mione, aren't you going to unpack? Mum said you were welcome to stay in with Ginny."

She wrapped her arms around herself in a small self-hug. "No Ron, I don't think I will. I mean… Well…" She bit at her lip a moment. "You see, it isn't as if I will be staying here a full day anyway. So-"

Ron let out an exaggerated sigh, and then took hold of Hermione's arm, and led her into Ginny's room, where they were alone. "I can't believe that your going to be going through with that 'Mione."

She pulled her arm away. "Did you think I was joking?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Well… Maybe…"

"_Ron…"_

"Will you just listen a moment 'Mione? It will ruin _everything_ if you go."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "Ruin everything… Ruin _what_, Ron? I haven't planned anything but this apprenticeship."

"Oh… Well… I…" He gave her his trademark half-smile, and ran his hand through his hair again. "I…"

"You what?"

He took a deep breath. "Well, I wasn't really planning on this until later, but…" He suddenly reached into his pocket and brought out a rather suspicious looking box.

She took a small step back. "Ron…"

He moved forward, grabbed her hand, got down on one knee and opened the box to reveal an elaborate-for-a-Weasley diamond ring. "Hermione, will you marry me?"

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A/N- Once again, I hope you liked the chapter, and please review. :)


	3. Waiting

A/N- Wow, so many reviews, so little time. I just love you guys. Talk about motivation… Lol. I wasn't planning on writing this for a few more days, but you all talked me into it. Hope you enjoy. :)

Disclaimer- this belongs to Snape. -Snape looks down at the fan fiction author with a raised eyebrow.- You do know that I am fictional, do you not?

**_Chapter 3- Waiting_**

Snape arrived at the Three Broomsticks a half an hour early, and sat on the bench outside. He sat for about five minutes, stood back up and started to pace. Had there been anybody out on the streets at this time, they would have though him crazy. Maybe he was. He just accepted one of the 'golden ones' as his apprentice, and was now sitting in front of the Three Broomsticks in the middle of the night.

What precisely was he thinking anyway? What if he was wrong about her? What if she couldn't handle it? What if she killed herself, or went insane like that idiotic uncle of Weasley's?

Oh yes, he knew about him. Duncan Weasley, the reason that most Potions apprenticeships had been declined within the last decade or so. It was the reason most looked upon the Masters as if they were either insane, or monsters. They were maybe callous, but most were not insane, nor were they monsters. Though, on the account of himself, some may have a plausible argument.

He flopped back down onto the bench and pinched the bridge of his nose. The fact that Duncan had studied under one of the kindest men he knew in Potions, proved how weak the man's resolve had been. Duncan must have been sensitive. Which made him wonder on Miss Granger. Would she be able to handle the full extent of it?

With a deep sigh, he forced his mind to become blank. No, she would handle it, if only for the fact of getting a higher education. He knew that much about her, otherwise the stupid girl would have given up that stupid time turner earlier than she had done in her third year.

He idly watched the time. 2:45 now. She had fifteen minutes yet to arrive. If she were late, he would have to yell at her… Later of coarse, after the document was signed. IF she even came at all. After all, he had not specified the PRECISE time, he had just written three o'clock. He meant the nearest Three, and that would indicate 3am by his standards. He wondered if she would decipher it, and actually come on time. If not, then he need not worry about that little mind of hers. That is unless she was just playing a joke on him, and then it was he that was the fool.

Not that it really mattered to him anyway. After all, it WAS only an hour from his life, a life he felt he did not really deserve to live. He recalled Albus' words. _Redemption through a mutual defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on your behalf, and the ministry will find it even. _Ha. What a laugh. Redemption? It was simply not possible; his soul was too far-gone to begin with.

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Hermione's jaw dropped open. _WHAT? Did he just… No…_ "Pardon?"

Ron repeated his question. "Will you marry me?"

She simply stared at him, her eyes wide. What was he thinking? "I… I don't know Ron, I mean… Its just… Its just that…" She started to panic. What if he never spoke to her again if she refused? "I have my apprenticeship interview today and… Wait a moment…" She looked around frantically for a clock. "What time is it? Last time I looked, it was slightly past twelve."

"Will you forget the time? Give up being Snape's apprentice, and marry me."

She stared at him. "Are you mad?" Give up her education? Honestly. "You knew I was planning on going to university. Would have you still asked me then?"

He nodded. "Well… Yes. I mean… you don't really _need _to keep going to school, do you? I received that scholarship for the Chudley Canons, and I _could _provide for the both of us. Don't you see 'Mione, I… I love you." He took hold of her hands.

"I can't believe you, Ronald." She jerked her hands free of his. "I would never sacrifice my education for anything. Do you have any idea how hard it was to even _stay _in school after… After…" She trailed off and bit her lip. "Listen Ron, I care for you… I do care for you, it's just… I can't, Ron. I just can't right now." She sighed, grabbed her things, and quickly left the room. She wasn't able to see Ron fall to his knees and hit the floor, sobbing, after she left.

She took two stairs at a time. What time was it? Finally when she reached the bottom step, she noticed. She squeaked as she noticed the time. 2:50; how had the time gone by so quickly? She had only played a few card games with Harry… She sighed and went to leave. Harry stopped her.

"Hermione? Where are you going? Its nearly 3am."

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Harry. Snape said for me to meet him at three o'clock, and I plan to be there on time. Well, attempt to."

His brows furrowed. "But its three AM, Hermione. As in the middle of the night."

"I know, Harry, but we are also talking about Snape. I would rather be safe than sorry, and I need this apprenticeship."

Harry let go of her, shrugging his shoulders. "You're right, it IS Snape you are dealing with. Um, I guess I should say good luck." He gave her a quick hug. "If you get it, write often. If he tries to murder you, I want to be the first one to avenge you."

"HARRY!" She looked at the time again. Blast, and blast again. "I need to go, and don't worry, I will either return, or write you." With that, she ran out the door, and was suddenly gone.

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Snape watched the time. She had five minutes. This was highly unlike the girl. She was usually the first student in his classroom, shortly followed by Malfoy. Perhaps she didn't realize what time he wrote after all… He snorted to himself. It would figure. Actually decide to put ones hopes into something, and it not turn out. Just like the rest of his bloody life. He should have known. Perhaps _he _should have shown up late…

Just as he was about to give his hopes up he heard a rather audible 'pop'. He raised his eyebrow slightly, but as he heard movement, he forced his expression to that of being bored. Time for his charade to begin, providing that, in fact, it was Miss Granger.

She slowly looked around. Was she wrong about the time? She carefully made her way to the Three Broomsticks. How in the bloody hell was she to see? It must have been cloudy out for there was hardly any light to see with. As she neared what she was hoping to be the door, she thought she saw something move. Quietly she neared it, her curiosity taking over her mind. She could tell she was getting closer, she knew she had to be…

And then she tripped. Falling directly into something soft, which offered a bit of a long groan, followed by, "You do know Miss Granger, there is such a thing called the 'lumos charm', and as interesting as it is to see you fumbling you way over here, I do suggest that you use it."


	4. The Second Mistake

A/N- Yay, another chapter! Ok, I know they are short, but they come out faster that way, yes?

Disclaimer-: holds up a grain of sand: This is all I own, so obviously this story does not. : Mother Earth comes and takes grain of sand from the author's hand, muttering something about stupid pilfering people and that elements can't be owned: … :Sniff: Never mind…

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_**Chapter 4- The Second Mistake**_

Directly after he spoke she heard a soft 'Lumos', and everything immediately was doused in light around them.

She stared at him. Plain, and outright stared at him. "I… I… You see…" Why in the world could she never construct a full sentence around him? There was days that she felt she was completely incompetent around the man. It was completely nerve wracking.

He shoved her off of him, which landed her on the ground with a rather audible 'thud', and _then_ thought better of it. Oops. That may have not been the best way to get into the good graces of someone he was trying to trick into signing a life… _complicating_… document of sorts. But, considering the fact that the deed was already done, and he wasn't one for apologies, he might as well finish it out. As well as perhaps call the girls bluff. If the rumors were true, then Miss Perfect preferred death to a missed opportunity, and if not, then he would not get an apprentice. No harm, no foul. Though, in an odd sense, he hoped they were true. "I do have to congratulate you, Miss Granger. I was beginning to think that you might not show up for our meeting this morning. Although, after watching you make potions for the past seven years, with nary a rare mishap, I thought perhaps you were competent enough to learn from me. But then you come here, forget a simple, common charm, and then trip, falling headfirst into myself. Which, Miss Granger, is not precisely a good beginning of our relationship, now _is _it?"

She continued to stutter, took a deep breath and attempted to speak again. "Well, not real-", He interrupted.

"Perhaps I had been wrong, Miss Granger, that you were indeed competent enough to become my apprentice. Perhaps you _are _simply a living dictionary and nothing more." He attempted to add as much malice into the last two words as he possibly could, narrowing his eyes at her and crossing his arms in the process. If there was anything at all that he knew in social skills, it was the art of intimidation.

"But Professor Snape, I didn't mean to, that is, I really didn't-" Hermione felt her face get hot, knowing that she had to be blushing. He couldn't turn her away now, not after she had come so close, he simply _couldn't…_

He smirked. Perfect. He had been correct; the girl was panicking. "Calm down, Miss Granger, before you wake the rodents with your squabbling. I have not dismissed you… Yet…"

Relief flooded through her and she let out her near-anguish with a deep sigh. She then stood up, right after she realized that she was still sprawled rather unceremoniously upon the ground. She cleared her throat. "Um, Professor Snape?"

He raised a brow. "What?"

"What exactly do we need to go over? I have already read up on apprenticeships, and it means that I will be more or less at your beck and call, and most usually last up to two years. Am I correct?"

"Mostly, but there are a few of the… _finer _details to be going over. Such as living arrangements, length, and what it is that you are to be doing on a simple description, etc, etc. Now sit." He felt his lip twitch back up into a smirk as she quickly sat down next to him. "First, to point out where you were wrong. Yes, it will mean that you will be at my beck and call. To fill this out in more detail, Miss Granger, is that you will do whatever I tell you to, whenever, wherever, and however I tell you to do it. Next thing you were wrong on is the length. It is precisely 4 years that you will be in my service, not two, as you previously decided to inform me of. Is this understood, Miss Granger?"

She nodded wordlessly, so he continued. "As for the living arrangements, I do believe that there is a small suite not far from my own that is currently unoccupied, and will allow you easy access to the labs, as well as my private library, as it were." The pieces were now set, all he had to do, was finish, and he would more or less have a slave for four years. He pulled out the contract from within his robes, as well as a quill. "Now that these terms have been verified, all that is left, is for you to sign here," he pointed to where he had put her name at the bottom, "directly below your name to solidify the agreement. It states, more or less," It was rather more instead of less, but he was not about to say it, "what I have just told you. Once you sign, you may leave to pack your bags, and you may have most the day to move in, but shall be available for… orientation if you will, precisely after dinner, if you shall agree."

She carefully took the contract, and held it up, squinting at the tiny words. After several moments she looked up at him questionably.

"Are you satisfied, or is something missing?" Annoying little girl, couldn't she just sign it, and get it over with. Not that she would see the finer details of the contract at this point anyways.

"Well, you see, there is nothing in here about holidays. Am I also to assume that I will also be working those as well?"

"It is entirely possible, Miss Granger, but I will not guarantee it as of yet."

"I see." She stared at it again. Was there something in there that she missed? She read over it again, and when she looked up again, she noticed that Snape was looking thoroughly annoyed. She had also noticed that it stated that there was no way out of the contract once signed… But she had no choice. She wanted… no… _needed…_this apprenticeship, and she would go with any means necessary to get it. Even if the man she was learning from was dire and had a tendency to have hidden meanings behind most everything that he did. So be it. She picked up the quill, and signed her name. The contract suddenly disappeared.

When she looked up to question him of it, she had the sudden desire to run away screaming bloody murder. For, just a few inches away from her, was something she had never seen before. Something that, seemingly common and usually good, was outright terrifying coming from its source. Severus Snape, her new Master and ex- Potions Professor, was smiling.

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A/N- Thank you all once again for your reviews, I love them, and please continue. As for one or two of the questions asked in the reviews, I am not going to tell you just yet what precisely the mistakes are, but they will be clarified later so keep reading! :D


	5. And so it Begins

A/N- Weee! So many reviews! Thank you all for leaving them, talk about instant inspiration. LOL. Anyway, this chapter is a little bit longer, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as the other ones.

Disclaimer- my initials aren't really JKR; I just wish they were.

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_**Chapter 5- And so it Begins**_

He had the sudden urge to laugh at her discomfort, but in the end resisted it. It would do him no good, really, to render the girl entirely incapacitated. So instead he spoke. "I believed it has been settled then, Miss Granger. I shall see you this evening, the house elves will point you to your room." He did a slight bow of his head, stood, and with a bit of a 'pop', was gone.

Oh dear… She stared at the place that he had been for at least five minutes before she was able to break her daze. What in the world did the man have in store for her? She must have been right, there was an underlying reason to his acceptance, but what was it? It couldn't have been anything at all atrocious by any means. She had been watching him for two years, and watched from a distance, for the previous five. He wasn't a bad man, he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, and he wore that tough exterior simply to ward off unwanted attention.

She hoped he would be more personable once they started to work together. She sighed, and walked back to the place that she had apparated to, right after she performed the lumos charm herself. Ah yes, there they were, her luggage just thrown there when she had apparated. She had been so mindless with worry when she arrived, afraid that she might be late, she just forgot it there. How stupid. She almost lost her chance of apprenticeship with Snape, her new Master.

She couldn't help but grin at that. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wouldn't let herself accept that he would accept her. He was too much of a solitary man to just 'jump' at having an apprentice. Surely he had offers before this; he was, after all, one of the most brilliant men in Europe.

Hermione shook her thoughts away, and decided to go to Hogwarts. The sooner that she arrived, the sooner she would have her room. And she just remembered that she had no sleep before she came to the meeting. So, as soon as she finished picking up her things, she left for Hogwarts.

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Snape just couldn't wipe that stupid grin off of his face. He tried, nearly for ten minutes he had tried. But then he would remember the fact that the girl would be at Hogwarts soon, and under his complete control, and it would creep right back up on him. Blast his sudden giddiness. He had already frightened two other staff members, and made one out-right laugh at him. That had been Minerva; stupid woman never knew when to leave well enough alone. She had been trying to get him to succumb to her for the past seven years; the first six had been trying to get him to laugh, and then the next two had been to get him to smile.

That was the second time that she got her way. Oh yes, she made him laugh, only once of course, but it still happened. It wasn't _his _fault that he found it funny when she told him that Albus had just married. He simply couldn't see it, really, and it wasn't really fair that Minerva had been the one to deliver the news. Besides, she gloated about 'making Professor Snape laugh' for at least a year after it had happened. After this, he vowed never to let the woman get her way again. And it just happened. Oh, it wasn't _her _that made him smile, but that didn't matter to her. She was already taking the credit, for Merlin's sake. So, bloody hell, and damn it twice.

And it was almost time for breakfast. Which brought something to mind, or rather, _someone_. Someone by the name of Hermione Granger, and he idly wondered if she would be attending the morning meal. But more-over he wondered what he would do with her that evening. Oh, he had ideas, but none of them were quite right, really, once he thought about it more.

He was also beginning to believe that he went temporarily mad the day before. What in the name of Merlin made him reply to her letter in the first place? The summer was one thing, but four years? The girl was downright annoying most of the time, and when the school year started, his nerves would more than likely run so thin; he would either kill one of his blundering students that _every SINGLE _year seemed to possess. For the class that just graduated, it had been Longbottom, though in the beginning he had thought it might have been Seamus Finnigan; that boy blew so many things up that first year, it was simply ridiculous. Of course he had been proven wrong when Longbottom attained the fourth place prize for 'Most Cauldrons Melted Within a Seven-year Span'. Oh yes, there were three others that actually achieved worse results in his classes.

First place- Lauren VanDevroe, some very rich ambassador's daughter from France, or… at least that is where he believed she was from. She had melted EVERY blasted cauldron that she ever used. Mostly the ones she transfigured for herself, for, while she was a prodigy in transfiguration, she was a complete and utter dimwit when it came to making even the simplest of potions, and after the first two weeks of class, of her first year, took away her cauldron privileges. Yet, she still tried. During her seventh year, he had honestly considered just letting the girl blow herself up. He had wanted to, and honestly regretted not letting her do just that. Especially when he seen her name in his favorite magazine. It simply was not right that someone, who could not brew a single potion, would be a best selling author of Transfiguration books. It would figure; it seemed that he never sold anything of his, outside of a few copies.

He looked at the time, and decided that he would just go up to breakfast. So what if he was fifteen minutes early?

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She stared at the ceiling. It had been a few hours since her meeting with Snape, and she was completely moved into her new rooms. They were spectacular, four or five empty bookshelves in a sitting room, a huge bath, and a large bedroom, with perhaps the softest bed she had ever been on in her entire life. And she could not sleep.

She wanted to, but simply couldn't. She was too excited, or maybe that feeling was dread. She didn't really want to speculate on that one all that much, so she simply decided that it _must _be the excitement that went with anticipation. Nothing more.

She sighed, and realized that it was already time for breakfast. With a small effort, she got off of the bed and went to the door. It would be the perfect time to tell the other Professors that she would be staying there for a while. More like four years, actually. She smiled at the thought, and started to go down the hallway when she noticed some movement just ahead. As she jogged to catch up, she noticed that it was Snape. She smiled even wider. "Good morning Sir."

He froze. He thought he had heard someone walking behind him, but honestly didn't think it would be her. Damn her, how dare she be overly punctual in EVERYTHING. He spun around and narrowed his eyes at her. "I did not expect to see you until this evening, Miss Granger. Don't tell me that you have already unpacked…" As he finished he raised his brow in question.

She felt her cheeks grow hot. "Well… Yes, actually. You see; I really didn't have all tha-"

"Be quiet Miss Granger, I do not need your explanations. A simple 'yes' would have sufficed. So, I am assuming that you will be ready for orientation after breakfast?"

"I… Well… You see I was planning on…" She noticed as he raised his brow again, and decided that her sleeping habits probably didn't interest him. "Yes sir, we can start after breakfast."

"Good. I am also assuming that you were headed for breakfast, were you not?"

She nodded. "I was."

He swept his arm out in front of him towards the direction they were both headed. "After you." As she quickly made her way ahead of him, he started to follow close behind her. He smirked. If he could intimidate her enough for the next four years, he would be lucky enough to keep getting such short answers. At least that would be one of his headaches taken care of. Unfortunately, he doubted it.

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A/N-Thank you for reading, and once again, please review, I simply get overly giddy every time I see a new one. I will try to have the next chapter up soon. :)


	6. Orientation Begins

A/N- Yay! More reviews! And I suppose I can't help it really, I can't seem to write much without the more natural humor of things work through. But don't worry; there will be more 'angst' in future chapters. And I will also try to get a longer chapter in here… Someday…

Disclaimer- dons the famous eyeglass-with-mustache disguise and whistles inconspicuously

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**_Chapter 6- Orientation Begins_**

A single pair of footsteps could be heard throughout the corridor. He frowned; she was far too noisy for her own good. He decided to make a mental note that he would train her also in the art of SILENCE, a very good thing to learn, really. He stared at the girl in front of him. She currently had on her Gryffindor uniform. That would definitely have to change. That, and that bloody hair of hers simply had to go. Frizzing out everywhere, ever since he had ever laid eyes on her. He had once thought she might actually have knotted it herself to attain that effect. Whatever happened to gentle curls? And if he ever heard anyone describe her hair as extremely curly one more time, he would hex them. It was NOT curly; it was like watching a chia-pet with legs. He had confiscated one once about a year ago from a student, and decided to watch it grow. It was actually a bit fascinating, really…

Snape swore at himself inwardly. He honestly should gain a better restraint upon his thoughts, especially when he needed to focus on other, more important things. Things like what in the bloody hell he was to do with Granger when breakfast was over, and not over the chia-pet that was still currently located atop his dresser. He would obviously give her a tour of his personal library, study and lab, a fact that he was not honestly looking forward to. He had never allowed anyone within those rooms before, not even Albus, and allowing a girl that he had loathed for a near seven years, entrance to his private rooms, was a rather disturbing thought to him.

Not that he could back down now, the girl had already signed the contract. And he couldn't murder her entirely on her very first day; it was simply unethical. So that settled it, no potion making this day. Besides, it looked as if she hadn't slept yet, and he wasn't about to have his lab blown up because he was foolish enough to allow it. No, he would simply have to come up with something else.

They finally arrived after what seemed an eternity in silence. At least, that was what Hermione thought. She smiled at the fact that the hall was empty except for them at the moment. She sighed, and started to head to her usual place when she heard Snape clear his throat from behind her. She stopped and whirled around on the balls of her feet. "Yes, Professor?"

He crossed his arms. "Two things, Miss Granger. The first, you are no longer a student here, so if you sit with the students for the next seven years, there would be a problem. You are to sit at the head table, next to me. Second, I am now your Master, so you shall now address me, as the title should indicate. Is this understood?"

"Y-yes Pr…Master Snape, I understand." She bit her lip as he narrowed his eyes at her, and then followed him when he started to move again. It would be strange, calling him by a different title, really. She had been so used to calling him 'Professor', she didn't think that she would be able to keep it straight at first. When he took his seat, she stood, looking like him like a fish out of water.

He raised a brow at her. "Is there something wrong, Miss Granger, that you must insistently hover over my shoulder?"

"Which side?" She must be looking like the fool…

"Pardon?"

"Which side should I sit in? I thought most of the seats were spoken for."

"They usually are." He hadn't thought of that. It would figure that she would actually ask where to bloody well sit. She had to ask questions about everything else after all, so why would this be any different? If he told her to his right, he would be sandwiched between McGonagall and Granger. But it must be, he wasn't about to let Minerva see directly the 'aftereffects' of what he had started to plan for the girl. No, it was best that way. He moved his arm towards his right. "You may sit there, Miss Granger."

She quickly took her seat, and not really wanting to annoy Snape any further, proceeded to stare at the table in front of her. And continued to stare, even after people had started to arrive.

She was annoying him. It had not even been a full day, and she was already starting to get on his nerves. Yes, it would definitely be a very long four years. The stupid girl was staring at the table for the past ten minutes, for crying out loud. And if he was correct, she hadn't blinked for at least five. Either the fact that she had not slept in well over a day was starting to take a toll on her, or she was deliberately trying to drive him mad. And if he knew her, it was more than likely both. Damn her.

It had to stop. He leaned over. "Miss Granger, is there a particularly interesting grain within the table that seems to have caught your interest? I do believe you have been staring at that same spot for at least ten minutes. And may I remind you that we are currently in public, and it seems that you are being stared at in current?"

She suddenly blinked, and looked up, half dazed. "Oh... I… What?" Ok, she definitely needed sleep.

Just as he was about to reply, he heard a gasp come from behind him. "Hermione Granger, what might I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall."

"It seems, Minerva, that your perfect protégée has decided to take an apprenticeship, with myself."

Minerva's eyes went wide with shock, and she put her hand up to her mouth momentarily. "But Severus, you never cleared it with-"

"It isn't needed, Minerva. Albus has given us all express permission to take on apprentices at our own discretion. Besides, I myself only found out yesterday. It is not like I hunted her down with the contract and forced her to sign it, after all."

She turned her shocked gaze to Hermione, who gave her a tired smile. "You have already signed it then, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, early this morning."

Minerva gave her a thin, wary smile. "I see. Then I wish you the best of luck in your endeavor. You obviously want this badly, considering." She let her eyes pass by Snape for a moment before continuing quietly, "I just want you to remember that every Master of a craft teaches as their Master before them, Miss Granger. Perhaps you should have been more-" She was interrupted.

"I do believe that breakfast is about to be served, Minerva. You should take your seat." He let the words pass out of his mouth in a quiet hiss, and narrowed his eyes at her. It was far too soon to let her know the extent of what the contract entailed.

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As soon as breakfast was over, he ushered her out of the dining hall before Minerva decided to finish her earlier conversation with Granger. There was no doubt in his mind she would eventually find out about his own tutelage, but now was simply NOT the time for it. Besides, he was not in the mood for pity, nor extreme fear at the moment.

So instead, he directed her to his private library. "Pay close attention Miss Granger, you will need the sequence memorized if you want to study, and I will only demonstrate this once." She nodded, so he continued. "Tap the third brick here" he tapped it "Three times, and then say 'A mari parere vedera de descoperire', and the doorway shall appear. For the simple fact that I wish to know that you were actually paying attention, I desire you to do the action."

"Yes sir." She promptly took out her wand and repeated what he had told her, tapping the brick three times. "A mari parere vedera de descoperire." The bricks suddenly moved about in a fashion similar to the way they did at the entrance to Diagon Alley. How peculiar.

He sneered at her. "Congratulations, Miss Granger, you actually said it correctly on your first try. Now get in."

And as she entered, she gasped. This was no simple personal library at all. It was more than likely comparable to the fabled Alexandrian library, it was so magnificent. She could not tell how long she actually stood there admiring the gothic cathedral architecture of the large room, before she felt hot breath near her ear.

"Do close your mouth Miss Granger, you are beginning to remind me of a fish."

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A/N- Just in case you want to know, a mari parere vedera de descoperire means 'expand the mind's sight for discovery' in Romanian. The grammar may be a bit bad though, as I am not exactly fluent in Romanian. Anyways, thank you for reading, and as always, please review. I will try and get the next chapter up soon.


	7. Sweet Dreams, Hermione

A/N- Well, here is your update. I had the option of making it longer, or up faster, and well, you can see which one I chose. The next chapter should be longer though, so it might be up a day later or so than these have been coming up. I hope you enjoy this one.

Disclaimer- Me? Own something? Breaks out in hysterical laughter

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_**Chapter 7- Sweet Dreams, Hermione**_

She stared at him for a moment, snapping her mouth shut. "Sorry sir, it is just that-"

"No explanation is needed Miss Granger. Follow me." He turned from her quickly, heading to the far right hand corner of his library. He sneered as he heard her follow. That girl honestly needed to learn to be more silent than she was currently being. Ah… This was the place… He stopped, and turned around abruptly, and nearly ended up with yet another incident where the girl had fallen into him. Thankfully, she regained her balance before that particular event occurred. He raised his brow at her. "Are you feeling well, Miss Granger? It seems that you cannot keep your balance as of late."

She felt her cheeks grow hot. "I'm fine sir." She watched as his lip twitched upwards. Damn him, he was finding her amusing, but as she was about to say something, she remembered that she did not really want to annoy him; at least not yet. After all, it WAS her very first day as his apprentice.

"Very well, then. There is a desk here in this corner." He flicked his wand in the direction, and a rather long piece of paper appeared upon it. "And upon that paper is your day's instructions. Do be on time, Miss Granger. I would rather not have you waste any more of my time than is already necessary." And with that he turned from her, and left the impressive library, billowing robes and all. The moment that the entrance was once again closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, after that assignment, what in the bloody hell to do with her?

At that moment he smirked. With a stroke of luck, she wouldn't be able to finish, had he been correct about the fact she had previously not been asleep. That would give him adequate time to figure out what he would have her start with. And it couldn't be easy. After all, the stupid girl hadn't come to him to receive 'an easy earned' education, and he had no intentions of giving her one.

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She stared at the note/list in front of her, her mouth hanging down as far as it would go. The man was completely mad… Read thoroughly a total of twelve books, accompanying a seven-foot parchment by next breakfast? But she hadn't had any sleep…

Oh well, she had, after all, gotten herself into this mess. She was the one that went to Snape before breakfast, not the other way around. She _should _have seen this one coming. She sighed, and started to hunt down the books. The Importance of Powders, Replacing Key Ingredients; The Book of Substitutes, Important Potions to Keep On-Hand, amongst a few others. She then sat down heavily in the chair and began to read. It seemed to go slowly, but her eyes felt as if they were beginning to shut the entire time. _NO! _She had to stay awake; she simply had to!

With new determination, she tackled the books. They were amazing. Everything within them seemed to be essential for Potions, and yet, she couldn't remember seeing any of these titles within the school's more public library. It seemed rather odd to her…

After she completed four of the seven books, and completed at least two feet of parchment worth of notes, she started to feel almost numb, but she refused to quit. She would prove to him that she was worth taking on as his apprentice, even if it would kill her. So she continued on, starting on the fifth of the twelve books she needed to complete for her assignment. She could do this… She knew she could…

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Snape began to pace. It had been hours since he had left her within the room; in fact, she had not shown up for lunch, dinner, or breakfast in fact. Strange. He thought the girl would have enough sense at least to eat something. Oh well. If the girl wanted to starve, it was her own problem. Perhaps he should go there. He was going to give her another hour of leeway, but damn it, this 'waiting' was starting to grind on his nerves.

Oh well, he _did _say after breakfast, did he not?

With his deduction, he left his quarters, and down the hall to his library, and recited the incantation. The entrance soon moved aside, and he entered. How far did the girl get anyway? Tenth book? Perhaps even the eleventh by now? He stalked over to the corner he had assigned her, and what he saw before him, made him scowl.

Stupid, stupid girl. That would honestly answer his question about whether or not the girl had any common sense at all. Obviously not; otherwise, she would _not _be currently sleeping on a book, and still be holding a quill over her parchment.

To say the least, he was livid. Not for the fact she had fallen asleep, no, he had actually expected that. No, he was livid that she had not used her more common sensibilities to take a _nap _before starting the work, the fact she had not eaten, and _bloody hell _she was only on the fifth book. In the name of Merlin…

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then after a breath, sneered. Annoying Gryffindor… He quietly picked up one of the books on the side of the desk, raised it to mid-air, and with all his might, slammed it hard onto the desk. And as the girl squealed and fell out of her chair promptly, he could not hold back the chuckle that was lodged at the back of his throat.

Damn, so much for not ever laughing again… Oh well, it was for a good cause anyway. He crossed his arms. "Miss Granger, did I, or did I not say that I expected you to be finished by now? And you are where exactly? The fifth book is it? If I am correct in this assumption, that is not quite half way to being complete."

Unfortunately for him, the now half-delirious creature that he just startled into the world of the living, decided it was the perfect time to interrupt him. "What in the world was that for?"

He raised a brow, slightly annoyed by her interruption. "Which one, the long assignment on no sleep, or me waking you up."

"There are better ways to wake people up than that! And didn't you know that I had no sleep before starting this assignment? The assignment was impossible; I worked until I fell asleep. Considering the fact that I am still holding this _stupid _quill, I fell asleep while I was still working. Not to mention-"

"Do shut up Miss Granger." His eyes were thin, and his voice was no higher than a whisper. She felt as though he were shouting, his anger seemed to emanate from him so strongly. "First of all, I did know you had no sleep, second, yes, I knew the assignment was close to impossible, considering your state. Third, it was rather obvious that you fell asleep while you were working. But I do see that you are missing the point entirely that I am trying to make, Miss Granger. You seemed to have signed a piece of parchment yesterday morning. You have now two weeks to complete my new task as punishment for your behavior, seeing as you felt the need to argue before you even knew what I was to say." He flicked his wand at the list, and it grew into a two-foot scroll. "Your instructions are there. You are not to leave this library until you are done, and I _will _be locking the door on my way out, so don't even try to leave until either the two weeks are up, or you are done." With this he started to head towards the door, and just as he started to open it, something stopped him.

Her mouth once again fell open, for the third time in just two days. "But that's not fair!"

He turned to her. "Is it really? You seem to be forgetting that for the next four years, you belong to me." And with that, he was gone.

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A/N- Once again, I'm sorry for the short chapter. And as always, please review! I love them, and squeal every time I get an email saying that I have received one. So yes, I do read them all.


	8. Stuck

A/N- Hello again, sorry for the slight delay in a chapter, but I didn't start writing this one for a few days. Hope you all forgive me. I suppose I should say as well don't worry, though I plan to make this with more angst in the future, I don't think I will be able to leave out the humor no matter how much I tried to. I think I am allowed only one completely sad tale a year, and that was Sudden Sorrows. Oh well…

Disclaimer- I will never claim this as my own, and if I should sell it, then I am completely mad and… Oh… look at the pretty squirrels…

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**_Chapter 8- Stuck_**

DAY 1

It had been over an hour since her last 'meeting' with her Master, and she was currently seated against what had once been her way out. She had tried everything; the handle, charms, the verse that was used on the way in, and every other 'unlocking' technique she had ever heard of, not excluding a wry attempt at blowing the bloody entrance up. She was stuck. The git had locked her in the bloody library. And she needed to use the lavatory, and quickly.

Defeated she groaned, and then rose to her feet. Maybe there was a lavatory within the library, and if there were, she was going to find it. She made her way to the other corner of the library, and instead of a usual wall there, as there had been in 'her' corner, there was instead a small archway. One that was even shorter than she was. She decided to go through, and for the second time, her breath was taken away. It was a grand hall, with dozens of doors upon either side of it, all trimmed in silver with red and black velvet as the main entourage.

She tried the first door to the right, and squealed in excitement. A toilet! What luck! She quickly did as she needed and then, her curiosity getting the better of her, decided to go and figure out what all was behind the many doors of the hall she had found. To her dismay, she found that most of them did not open, except for three others. The first two that she discovered were bedrooms of sorts, and the last was a kitchen. Unfortunately, it was empty- completely and entirely empty. Oh well, it was not that big of a deal really in that aspect. She simply knew that Snape would send an elf to bring her food. She knew it…

On that note she sighed and went back to her table. Might as well see what in the world he was to have her do… She looked at the list.

In the name of Merlin! The man was completely out of his gourd. If her count was right, he wanted her to read nearly one hundred books, and more or less write a book herself in a report. After picking up a few books, she decided to go to one of the bedrooms. If she were to accomplish that much reading, she might as well do it in comfort. She collapsed heavily on the large, soft bed with a sigh. It was unfair really, she _did _after all finish seven of the twelve books he wanted her to finish, and she had well over the amount of notes he had required of her. And she had tried… She really did…

Once again sighing, she picked up the first book, and began to read.

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Day 2

Well, it now was becoming obvious that Snape had no intentions of coming to check up on her anytime soon. She was simply positive that he would have at least by lunch time, but by her calculations, considering the fact she had forgotten her watch and there were absolutely no windows in that bloody place, it was well past. Not to mention she had nothing to eat since breakfast… Yesterday. She was positively starving. She had finished nearly nine books since the day before, as well as at least seven feet of parchment worth of notes. Simply to say… She was tired.

Where was he anyway? One would believe, knowing that he had given her such an assignment, that he would check up on her at least once a day.

Damn and blast him anyway! Why would she care? He was being completely unfair. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't sleep before breakfast yesterday, it wasn't _her _fault that she got settled with an assignment that was due far before it should have been, why was he doing this?

Was it really a common thing that a master would _lock _their apprentice in a library? Ok, _that _fact she really didn't mind. It was simply the fact that she _couldn't _get out, even if she wanted, and the fact that she was hungry, and the bloody pantry was empty. At least it was a marvelous library… Maybe if she worked hard enough on her assignment, she might get it done early, depending on whatever time he ever decided it _should _be done, and she could read a book or three that she hadn't read before. She noticed that there were so many books here that weren't within the schools library. Where did he get them all? Or were they already here perhaps?

She sighed, picked up a few more books, and went back to what she declared her new bedroom. This place was perfect; it had everything that she could ever long for, a bathroom, kitchen, and best of all, a magnificent library. Now if only she had food…

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Day 3

She was going to kill him. Right after she ate something. Sure, she had water, but that was only holding her through by so much. She was feeling sick. Where in the bloody hell was he?! Next time she saw him, she swore she would hex him. Hex him from here till the rest of bloody eternity. She was doing his bloody long assignment, the least he could do was bloody well feed her.

DAMN HIM, damn him, damn him! She now knew why he took her on… To kill her. He more or less had permission in that contract to do it, she just never thought he would do it. How seemingly subtle of him; lock away hated student in her favorite spot, and see if she is able to claw her way out before she starves to death. Genius really, too bad she hadn't thought of it first so that she could have turned the bloody tables around. Would serve him right…

Wait… McGonagall knew that she was staying here… _She _wouldn't allow Snape to murder her so early on in her apprenticeship… Maybe… Just maybe she had some hope after all… At least… She hoped so. She looked towards the entrance, and felt herself begin to cry. _Don't forget me Snape… Please…_

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For close to the hundredth time, Severus read his favorite book, Madame Alchemica- Mistress of Potions. It was, unsurprisingly, an actual potions book, but with a twist to make it seem like a real work of fiction. He loved the way the author had twisted story with potion making seamlessly in together. Although, considering the fact that the book had stayed in print for a very short time, there weren't all that many others that felt the same way about it. Maybe it was the fact that it went far into detail when coming to potions, and how many stirs, and the smell would affect it… Oh well, it was their own problem if they couldn't see the brilliance of it.

Just as he was reading, he had the sudden feeling as if he were forgetting something important, but what? He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out what it was. He didn't have to go stir his current potion for another half hour, he had all of his work done that he needed to do for the day, and he had already spoken to Albus about school time arrangements for Miss Granger. After much yelling and cussing on his part, Albus still refused the workload that he wished to unload on Granger during the school year, something about not having the ability to watch both his students, as well as his apprentice. Rubbish, all of it! If the stupid girl blew herself up with one of the potions while he was not there, he didn't see how he would be responsible for that. Yes… He had remembered everything he needed to… Didn't he?

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Day 5-

She ground her teeth. It had been another two days, and she was starting to get so hungry she couldn't concentrate on her work in the way that she would like. She had figured it out now, that _IF _Snape ever walked through the door that the only thing that would save him from being eaten alive, was if he would be carrying in food for her. For some reason, she honestly doubted though that he was going to be doing neither.

She sighed, and in some mechanical motion went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and went back to the library to read. She didn't set down the knife though. If that damnable mouse were to come anywhere _near _her again, she would kill it. She didn't trust her wand to do it… No… If she were to kill the mouse, then she would be getting food from it. It would last her while, entrusting enlarging charms and freezing charms and all that.

That was it; she was starting to go mad.

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Day 6-

Snape had _tried _to eat peacefully, but couldn't seem to do it. OF coarse not… Why, who would want the ability to eat without being stared at for the entirety of the whole bloody meal anyway?

He couldn't take it anymore; he turned to Minerva. "WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU WANT, WOMAN?"

She looked over the top of her glasses at him. "Where has Miss Granger been for the past five days, Severus? Whether the girl knew or not of your own schooling, does not mean that you can abuse her the same way that you were abused. There are people here that will look out for her, and I don't wish what happened at the end of your apprenticeship, to happen again."

He looked at her, his surprise evident upon his face, if not in his voice. "You know what really happened then?" She nodded, and he spoke quietly, "I didn't know you cared."

"Well I do, Severus, and never forget it. None of us wished you dead during the war, and know that sentiment continues still."

He snorted. "I will keep it in mind. And don't worry yourself Minerva, she is fine. She is in my private library studying. Perhaps she hasn't come because she is a workaholic?" He sneered as he noticed that she accepted this bit of information, and continued to eat.

Like a flash of lightning he suddenly realized what it was that he had been forgetting. Bloody hell… He turned to Minerva again. "Excuse me Minerva, but I do believe that there is a certain matter that I must attend to."

And as he left the hall, he did not notice the pleased smile that spread across the woman's face, for there was _one _more task that Minerva had come up with, after she had witnessed him smile for nearly an entire day. To make Severus Snape either feel worthy of being alive, or to fall in love, whichever came first.

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A/N- Yay, a longer chapter! Still not overtly long, but it is the longest one as of yet, and hopefully will get longer as time goes… LOL. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, please review, I do appreciate them. :)


	9. Secrets Uncovered

A/N- Wow, that was a lot of reviews for such a short amount of time. Stares at them in disbelief Well, if that was meant to motivate me, it did, because here is your next chapter in record time. And not ONLY in record time, but in record length for this story as well. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer- holds up a sign that reads 'Property of J. K. Rowling, Need not sue'

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**Chapter 9- Secrets Uncovered**

Severus quickly went to his private rooms and paced. He couldn't believe that he had done that- leave the stupid girl without food. He knew that there was a kitchen, and that the last time he was in there was months ago. It had been stocked then of course, otherwise he would have thought of it sooner. Then again, he had forgotten that those bloody elves always took things upon themselves to 'clean' everything. He had lost his private stores of comfort food three times to that, damn them. How else was he to get his chocolate covered cherries? Bloody muggle candy, addicting, no good…

He took a deep breath. He couldn't very well just waltz into the library after locking her in there a day short of a week; she would more or less kill him. Not that it mattered to him really, but he still had nearly a full four years left to torture the little chit, and he wasn't about to give it up. No, he would send one of the _elves _in his stead, maybe with a note. A sudden grin formed on his face as another thought came to mind. Yes, she would be furious with him, but did he really care?

No, not really. He quickly got out a parchment and a pen and began to write his little note to Granger. Was he going to apologize? Ha! As if he would _apologize _to his _apprentice. _It was laughable, but he wasn't about to let her know that he had forgotten either. As soon as he had finished, he summoned the first elf that he could think of. Dobby. Not long after he called for the ragged annoying creature, it popped up.

"W…what can D-Dobby do for Professor Snape, s-sir?" The stupid thing wrung its bony hands together, and it shook as if it were about to bolt if Snape even breathed harshly in the things direction.

He found it simply amusing, the creature had feared him ever since it met him. It was funny really, how everything feared him. Though, he supposed there was a basis for that concern, considering some of the things he had done, and were still capable of. Not that he had any intentions of doing any of them- at least not in the least bit intentionally. He finally decided that he had tired of watching the creature flinch at him for the last minute or two as he regarded it. He held out the note. "Take this to my private library, _elf, _and give it to Miss Hermione Granger. Also, I would like you to restock the fridge there, I would believe that the girl will be most grateful."

It quickly took the note. "Is there any thing else Dobby can do for Professor Snape, s-sir?"

He smirked and crossed his arms. "It would please me if you left, and did as you were told." And as he quirked one of his eyebrows, there was a squeak that emanated from the creature, and it was gone. Yes, he still had the power to make animals flee.

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Hermione had lost all track of her normal logical thought process. She had determined this fact nearly a half-hour ago, and currently sat with a not so blank anymore piece of parchment, drawing pictures of food, or stick figure comics on how she would kill Snape. Maybe she should write a book after this. Title it _One Hundred and One Ways to Kill Your Surly Potions Master- by a Starving Apprentice. _She was sure it would sell quite well; after all _she _would have read it…

She sighed and leaned back into the chair, and picked up the knife that she had tossed to the side a while back, and idly began to play with it, doing stupid little tricks as standing it up on its tip and making the thing spin around. It was amusing; at least when you had nothing better to do and your mind wouldn't concentrate on work. She did this for a while, and then she heard it. A scattering. The mouse. She picked up the knife and slowly stalked to where she had heard the noise. "Here mouse… Here little mouse… I won't hurt you, come to your Aunt Hermione," she whispered as she moved slowly towards the noise.

A clanging sound came from her left. She jerked herself towards the sound quickly, and grinned wildly. Towards the kitchen then… "So that is where you're hiding…" She moved stealthily through the hallway, trying to make no sound what so ever as she pressed herself firmly against the wall. To make the kill, one had to be inconspicuous; otherwise the entire effort would be wasted.

Finally, she reached the doorway to the kitchen, when she heard the noise again. She could tell exactly where it was coming from. She readied her knife, raised her hand back, quickly rounded the corner and tossed it before she could decide otherwise.

She screamed. Before her stood the house elf Dobby whimpering and staring at her as if she were completely mad. Not that she blamed him, seeing as she had just thrown a knife at him and had it land right between his feet. She was expecting a mouse, not an elf after all. "In the bloody name of Merlin!" She ran to him. "Are you OK Dobby, I am so sorry, I thought you might have been that mouse…"

"Miss Granger apologizes to Dobby?" His big eyes started to water. "Dobby deserves no apology from a witch, Dobby is only here to serve Miss Granger…" He started to cry and she patted his shoulder.

"Of course you deserve it Dobby, I shouldn't have thrown the knife at you, it was highly improper of me." She continued to pat his shoulder.

He got out his handkerchief and blew his nose, looked up to Hermione and was about to say something when his face became blank and he turned his head away. He looked back to her. "Dobby must go Miss Granger, there is a note from Professor Snape on the counter, and your fridge is now full. Forgive Dobby. Dobby left a bell on the counter if you need him."

Bell? Maybe that was why none of the house elves came when she called them. Wait a moment… Food? Did he just say there was food? She ran to the refrigerator and threw back the door and screamed in excitement. FOOD! Dobby had left her food! If he were there, she would have kissed him. She grabbed a few pieces of something (of what she could care less about at that moment), and stuffed them into her mouth. She was _so _hungry. As soon as her initial appetite was tamed, she cooked herself a large meal, and gorged the entire thing down, forcing herself towards the end of it. Damn it all, she had food, and she was going to take advantage of it.

For some reason, she felt tired as soon as she was done, and decided that it would be a good time to go to bed. After all, she only had two more books to go, and another three foot of parchment.

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Day 7

When Hermione woke up, she immediately went to the kitchen for breakfast, beaming at the fact that she now had a full stock of food available to her. As she was preparing breakfast she noticed something lying upon the counter. Wait a moment… Didn't Dobby say something about there being a note from Snape?

She picked it up carefully and judged whether or not he would have put something in there that would explode or something similar to that effect when opened. After what he had just done to her, she wasn't about to trust him again. After deeming it readable she opened it slowly, and when she was completely satisfied nothing was going to come out and bite her, she started to read it.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I hope you are finding your stay within my library adequate for your purposes. Just in case you are currently wondering as to where it is that I might be, I assure you that I have more pertinent issues than to baby-sit a temperamental child. Speaking of which, I believe that my punishment for you has gone on long enough to make my point clear. The elf restocked your refrigerator, do not make me regret not making your punishment any longer that it was, Miss Granger, it would not be of your convenience. In another simple reminder, you belong to me for the next four years, and I can do to you as I see fit. Which would mean if I so chose to leave you locked in a dark one roomed cellar with no food or water for a full month, it would be my choice to do so. Oh, and one more thing, I have added another seven books, and three more feet of parchment to your assignment. I will come when I believe that you might actually be done. I have already made the mistake of assuming how long it would take you for an assignment once, I do not wish for it to happen again._

_Sincerely,_

_S.S._

After reading the note, she crumpled it up, and threw it against the wall, and then she screamed.

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Day 9

Not long after she had gotten up, she had finished her homework. She was absolutely positive that he would not find error with it, she had finished every blasted book he had given her to read, and had trouble filling the parchment. The opposite way, she had been positive for a while that she would have run out of room, and knowing Snape, considering he had reprimanded her for doing it before, going over the designated amount was not a very good thing to do. So, with some very wonderful squashing techniques, she had done it. And so, seeing that her work was done, Hermione had taken it upon herself to wander around in the other parts of the library. She had only currently explored the two back corners, and those were only half-hazard at best. She marveled at the artwork that donned the walls, but what she found most intriguing was the fact that as far as she could tell, every single one of them was muggle. It was odd really, having such mundane, muggle things in the most magical place she had ever been to. Not once had she seen a muggle painting within the building before… Anywhere. That was, until now. She had never known that Snape would even have anything to do with muggle things, let alone paintings. Though, she could see why, they would be more peaceful, and he wouldn't have to dim the lights if he were to stay up later than the portraits wished him to.

She was amazed by how many there were, the different frames, different artists, yet mostly because every one had been breathtakingly beautiful- except one. The frame had caught her attention first, and she couldn't help but stop to look at it. But there was something wrong; it held nothing but a blank canvas.

She stood and stared at the blank frame in front of her. It seemed so odd to her, the way that the frame interweaved around and within itself in an intricate display of woodcarving, and yet… And yet there was nothing in it but a simple white canvas. How very strange. After staring at it for a good five minutes, she tore her gaze away from the mesmerizing frame. Snape simply must not have found a painting eloquent enough to match the frame's beauty.

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Day 10

It was starting to near two complete weeks of being locked up in this library. Not that she really minded being locked in a library, but she was starting to desire some fresh air. Or company. She had only called Dobby once, but he simply wasn't a very good conversationalist. Not to mention she couldn't take her attentions from the frame. There was just something about it, something that made her stare at it, something that drew her there, as if there was some sort of secret behind it, but what?

She sighed, and continued to read the latest book that she had picked out, _Potions- A Guideline to Apprenticeships of the Last Century. _It was actually rather intriguing, and yet, disturbing. She had found a common trend that only one third of apprenticeships ended in a Mastery, one third ended in the apprentice meeting some sort of accident before they reached Mastery, and the other third finished, but simply was not verified to attain Mastery. Could it really have been so hard?

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Day 12

She made an interesting discovery. Snape was in the book she was reading- Severus S. Snape, current Professor and Master of Potions for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was rather certain that she had the right man there. In a way it disturbed her, because they did not name him for _his _apprentices. It mentioned that he had never taken any, and though that fact surprised her, it was the article that went with it that made her flesh crawl.

_Master Diggory McCarthy, worlds most renowned Potions Master was found dead at his home. His apprentice, who had just received his Mastery the night before, found him in the morning to report it. It has been deemed that it was a simple mishap; a residue of a potion had remained upon his hands, until he consumed his meal, thus poisoning him. It is unfortunate accident that will reside within the magical community surely for decades. Only his apprentice, Severus S. Snape, survives McCarthy in his death, and it has been determined that he shall be sole inheritor._

Day 14

That was it; she couldn't take it anymore. There simply HAD to be something on the other side of that canvas, and in the name of Merlin himself, she was going to find out what it was. She got up from her chair and marched up to the frame in question and moved to take it down. Instead, the thing decided to fight back and cut her hand in the process, leaving a small pool of blood at the bottom of the frame as she quickly withdrew her hand to cradle it.

She would have paid more attention to it, had something strange not just happened then. As she had withdrawn her hand, she noticed that her blood had unnaturally started to the top of the frame, and she became mesmerized by it. After a few moments, the blood had connected again at the top of the frame and started to drip upon the canvas. Instead of just being red, it transformed it slowly into letters. As soon as it seemed to be done, she pursed her brows. A riddle? How fascinating…

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Severus had waited two weeks, and honestly, his patience was starting to wear thin. He knew the girl had to have finished by then, but he wasn't about to make a liar out of himself, now was he? He had told her he would wait, so damn it, he waited. Now, he actually knew what potion to start the girl off with, and blast it, he was going to teach the little know it all, even if she WASN'T done with the bloody assignment yet.

He quickly made his way to his library, and after several minutes of de-warding the doors (after all he had to make sure the stupid girl would actually stay in there), he made his way in. He went to her corner, and then to the kitchen, and then he looked in both bedrooms located in the library, as well as knocked on the bathroom. Where was she? He checked the few smaller corridors that were part of the actual library, and then he froze. He found her, but not in a place he wished her to be. Quietly he moved behind her, and felt his blood run cold as he read a familiar riddle in blood.

To that in which I am 

_Living amongst the human race_

_Albeit human I am not_

_I wear shame upon my face_

_Though pride existing in my mind_

_From within me comes a monster_

_Who consumes my eyes liquid life?_

_To be concise I am a demon_

_For in the antithesis of clear_

_The flocks pay my highest price_

_As so that I might thrive_

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A/N- I hope that this was long enough for all of you that have been asking for longer chapters, and that you liked what you read. And as always, please review, it is always appreciated, and ever the motivator.


	10. The Third Mistake

A/N- I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and I apologize that it is not as long as my last one… Maybe next time…

Disclaimer- To be mine, or not to be mine, that is the question… Hmm… the answer seems to point to the second option…

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_**Chapter 10- The Third Mistake**_

She stared at the riddle; what could it possibly mean? She had been so entranced by the image that had appeared that she did not noticed when the door opened, nor did she notice when a tall, omnipotent looking figure silently creeped up from behind her.

He stood there a moment and watched her try to solve the riddle. He took note of her hand and swore inwardly to himself. Finally, after a long moment of trying to push back his annoyance, he leaned up behind her. "Miss Granger," he paused long enough for her to scream and turn towards him, "Why, in the bloody name of Merlin, are you standing before THAT frame, staring at it like a goldfish?"

Slowly she came to her senses, and shook her head to clear it. Where did he come from? "Well, you see, there is a riddle, and-"

"I _know _full well that there is a riddle in that frame, Miss Granger. What I_do _wish to know on the other hand, is how it came to be there. Would you care to explain yourself?"

She felt her face start to grow hot. If she told him the truth, she would have to confess that she was planning on taking it apart. "I cut myself?" She took her chances on the half-truth.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I see. Give me your hand." He held out his hand, raising a brow as if daring her to refuse.

So she complied, she wasn't really in the mood to deal with his temper at the moment anyway. Of coarse, she also wanted to keep her food supply as well. "It isn't that bad, Sir."

"In Potions, Miss Granger, a brewer's hands are the most important assets to their work." He looked down at her bloodied hand, and could see where the frame had cut almost all the way through to the bone. It was actually rather grotesque, seeing as the cuts were all over her hand, wrist, and part of her arm. It was a very serious wound, but at least it was not going to bleed out fast enough for her to die before she would arrive at the infirmary. What in the bloody hell had the girl been doing with that frame to mangle herself so badly? It only took a simple touch to give it enough blood to write with. He looked back up to her, forcing his gaze to be as molded as he could muster, but did not let go of her hand.

"Oh… Miss Granger…" He waited a moment for her eyes to flutter up to meet his, and squeezed her hand, yanking it up high so that she had to stand on her toes as not to dislocate her wrist. He ignored the fact that she had started to whimper, and proceeded to make his point. "At some point, did it ever cross that intelligent little brain of yours, that perhaps there was a reason that canvas was left blank?"

"Well, I thought-"

"Exactly, you_thought._Oddly enough_thinking _is both your best, and worst of qualities, and it is becoming to be a smidgen of a pain to me. One of these days, you_will _learn that some things are not meant for you, and that you should leave them_well enough alone, _Miss Granger."

"But the riddle-" She was confused, angry and in complete shock. What was wrong with him? It was only a stupid riddle…

Suddenly he tossed her away from him and she stumbled to the floor in a rather ungraceful manner. "That_riddle _is not one that is meant to ever be solved. Now that you have once again decided to pry into business that is not your own, you are dismissed for the day. I suggest going to Poppy and getting your hand fixed, immediately. I wish for you to start brewing tomorrow, so I expect you to be fully ready this time." When he noticed that she had not left right then, he narrowed his eyes at her. "I said you are_dismissed_."

The girl's eyes went wide, and she bolted for the door; as if he would change his mind if she didn't take the opportunity. As soon as the girl was gone, he ran a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath as he did so. SHIT. It had been a good thing that he had charmed the water to have a few extra nutrients in it. Or rather, it was a good thing that_Albus_had talked him into putting a charm on it, considering there were times that he had become so wrapped up in his work that he had forgotten to eat for several days himself.

The girl was thinner now than she had been two weeks ago, he had noticed when he had held her up to reprimand her. Actually, he could care less about the painting; he had actually been slightly worried for the girl, considering there was blood running down her damnable arm.

No matter how he had tried, he couldn't help but worry for his students. He didn't worry about what they thought of him, whether they were having a 'perfect life' or day or whatever the hell it was those bloody nitwits cared about at the moment of their personal crises'; but he did care whether or not they actually lived.

He walked over to the nearest chair and gracefully fell into it. He had known from the beginning he wouldn't actually kill the girl. Maybe make her life a living hell, perhaps even maybe lose his own life at the end, but he definitely wouldn't have killed her.

Damn it, he wasn't used to feeling this… This_guilt_. He hated it, that odd pain that felt so similar to humiliation. Damn her, and double damn her bloody intelligence. He looked up at the frame and sneered at it. "Well, you crazy old goat, it looks like you might find your freedom after all."

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She half ran up the steps towards Poppy's, trying her best to follow her Master's orders. She had noticed strangely enough, that Snape seemed to have not only scanned her wrist with scrutiny, but instead, all of her. Was he actually_concerned _with what he had done? The more she though on it,the more she was convinced thatthere was something odd that had transpired. By all reasons she shouldn't have been in as good of shape as she was right then, considering how long she had been without food. Maybe he had done something to help her? Maybe… Just maybe she had actually seen what looked like worry in his eyes for a brief moment before he had lifted her up, painfully, to interrogate her about what had happened.

At the memory, she suddenly noticed the pain in her arm, and moved to hold it. Her eyes went wide, beginning to panic at what she felt; liquid- warm, sticky liquid that seemed to be covering her entire arm. She started to move faster, fear seeping into every nerve of her body. Unfortunately as the fear took over, she hadn't noticed something important; the trail of shining deep red crimson that seemed to be following behind her.

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As Snape sat, cussing himself out for being a dunderhead, he suddenly felt uneasy. Something wasn't right. Something was definitely not right at all. Suddenly his stomach began to wretch, what was wrong? He dug his nails into the arm of the chair as his heart began to beat faster, a cold sweat forming on his brow.

He then felt the sudden need to go to Poppy, though he couldn't explain why. Without questioning his instincts, he rushed out of the room, as if all the deatheaters had somehow been resurrected from the dead and were after him for revenge. To say the least, he felt confused. Confused on why he was suddenly panicking, confused on why he felt so sick, and confused why his guilt was still plaguing him.

And then he tripped over the reason behind his sudden panic attack- just when he had reached the last flight of stairs towards the infirmary. It was Hermione Granger. Bloody hell. He suddenly felt an uncharacteristic mass forming within his throat at what he saw. The cut hadn't seemed so bad that she wouldn't have made it all the way to the infirmary when he had looked at the atrocious wound, unless…

STUPID, STUPID girl! What in the bloody hell was she thinking? Had she not realized that she seemed to have received a deep gash within the area most people sliced to take their own lives? In the library, the bleeding was still under control, but judging from the small pool of blood underneath where her hand lie, her heart had accelerated since she had left.

_Damn it all Severus, what in the bloody blazes are you doing simply standing there; watching as your apprentice bleeds to death in front of you? Have you not seen enough death in your life, that you would actually watch this girl die for your own failings? _

He swiftly bent down, wrapped a cloth tightly around her arm to hold off the bleeding, and then picked her up. He whispered in her ear, "If you even try and die on me now, only a couple of weeks into our… relationship, I swear that I will follow you to your grave and torment you for eternity, so don't even try to think that I will let you get out of it so easily, Miss Granger."

He bolted up the steps, using his practiced agility to do his best at not jarring the girl too much. Soon he was in the infirmary. "POPPY!" Nothing. Damn it. "Blast it Poppy, get your ass out here, we have an emergency. NOW!"

There was finally a stirring from the back, and it was soon followed by the school's mediwitch. Her eyes went wide as she seen Hermione, and she rushed forward. "Put her on the bed, Severus, what has happened?"

"She cut herself, and I suppose she thought it wise to_run _here."

Poppy pointed to the nearest bed. "Put her there, Severus."

He glared at her a moment, not wanting to give up the girl in his arms. Poppy crossed her arms, and nodded her head in the direction of where she had pointed. He gave in; there was no use in arguing with the woman. He set her down carefully, doing his best not to harm the girl any further. He was positive that had Minerva been watching, she would have either been shocked, gleeful, or both. More than likely, it would have been the later.

Poppy quickly pushed him aside, and began to attend to the girl. After a period that was too short for his liking, she turned to him, looking very pale.

He pursed his brows together. "What is it?"

"Severus… I… I cannot find her pulse… I am afraid she is dead."

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A/N- I know, I know, evil cliffy, but it simply BEGGED me to stop it there… As always, please review, I much appreciate them.

Also, if anyone could tell me where I could get a good beta reader, I would be extremely grateful. :)


	11. As Rotten as Ever

A/N- Thank you all for reading, and I would apologize for the last cliffy, but I can't find it in me to do it- it was far too fun to do. LOL. Well anyway, I would like to thank my new beta Jean Lamb- You're awesome, thank you, thank you!

Disclaimer- I am only borrowing them to corrupt the current stories that J.K.Rowling has wonderfully provided us. -_Takes characters and puts Snape's head on Hermione's body and vice versa. The author goes to return them. Snape turns to the author and glares.-_ "You are honestly beginning to annoy me, woman."

**_oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_**

**_Chapter 11- As Rotten as Ever_**

He stared at the mediwitch for a moment, dumfounded. "Pardon?"

"Severus, she is dead."

"You lie." He went over to where the girl lay and knelt down, pressing his ear to her neck, listening. No sound of a pulse, but she was still warm. The life had passed out of her not long ago… There was still a chance to save her. He was _NOT_ about to allow Albus to blame him for this, especially when it was the little chit's fault to begin with. He turned to Poppy, angry at the new development. "Do you have a blood restorative potion?" When she nodded he hissed, "Then get it."

He grimaced a moment before he did the next thing that he knew he had to do; breathe for her. Damn it, like he _ever _wanted to touch his lips to… _THAT_. He sighed, took a deep breathe, bent over her and pressed his lips to hers, breathing the air into her. It really would do no good to get her pulse going again if her lungs collapsed, really. But then… He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose; the restorative potion would not work fast enough to give her enough blood in time to get her pulse started again. _SHIT_.

Why couldn't this have happened a year or two later? He could have just _let _the girl die without worrying about the setbacks. But no, she chose less than a whole bloody month into the apprenticeship to die. Even in the eyes of the ministry, it was too soon for such a thing to happen. He would be found guilty of murder and he would be sent to Azkaban.

He did not spend all that time working as a double agent to be sent to that hellhole so soon after the war was finally over. She _would _live, no matter what he needed to do. "Poppy." She turned to him. "Would you by chance happen to have a transfusion set?"

She looked at him with an odd expression on her face. "I do, but that is for extreme cases."

He glared at her. "If this is not extreme, do tell me what is, Poppy; I am at a loss."

"It is too late… This is not your fault…" She looked at him with an emotion that he loathed.

Pity. He clenched his jaw, fighting back his agitation with the woman. "Get the damned needles."

"But-"

"NOW!"

She scrambled away from him, opened a drawer on a nearby cart and retrieved the needles.

"Accio needles." He held out his hand as they flew across the room to him. "Get over here, and do as I tell you to, when I tell you to do it." She nodded, and came to him. "Good. Hang on to this end, and make sure that the blood is to the end before you put it into her vein, it would do no good to have an inconsistency in her blood stop her heart after I get it started again." He knelt down, positioning the needle where he knew it needed to go, and noticed Poppy giving him a horrified expression.

"Are you mad? Taking it from there will kill you!"

"Shut up and do as I say. I don't believe I should need to remind you what I am descended from, do I? I have three minutes left before she will be lost, so I would suggest complete compliance on your part, that is, unless you wish her dead." When she went pale he continued, "The moment the transfusion is set, get to fixing that arm of hers."

He brushed his hair out of the way, once again positioning the needle where it needed to be, and pressed down quickly. He hissed as it found the thick vein within his neck, and watched morbidly as his blood filled the tube. The next few moments went like clockwork. The blood reached the end and Poppy put it into Hermione's uninjured wrist and moved to fix her arm. Severus waited a moment, breathed again for her and placed his hand over her heart. "Viscus Insipio." A flash of light surrounded his hand and then was gone. He suddenly remembered another charm, and cursed himself for not thinking of it any sooner. He pointed at her mouth. "Invidus Spiritus."

As he noticed her chest began to rise and fall, he continued on. "Viscus Insipio." Nothing happened for a whole minute of this, when suddenly…

She fought to draw in her own breath and he immediately uttered a "Finite incantatum." She arched her back as her body came back to life. He felt a small smile fall on his lips. She was alive. He was safe.

He pulled the transfusion needles out of both of them and stood, suddenly feeling very faint. He stumbled as a familiar whistling started in his head. _Bloody hell…_Soon his vision went black and he noticed that he was falling before all he could feel was numb.

………………………………………………………………………He was standing in front of a large, two story house. It was blue with a white picket fence- the usual dream home of muggles. It looked perfect; but everything was not always as it seemed. Suddenly, repugnant clouds formed overhead to hide the sun, and lightning bolted sharply in contrast against the sky. The moment that all light seemed to leave the vicinity, he noticed that before him stood Hermione Granger, looking as she did when she had first arrived at Hogwarts. She looked at him blankly with hooded eyes; eyes that were usually so very expressive, even when she was in her darker moods. "Miss Granger?"

Slowly she raised her eyes to his, and he was forced to take a step back. Her eyes were so dilated that he could not see her iris and the rest of her eyes were so bloodshot that they looked entirely red. "It is your fault. You killed me."

"Pardon? You were rather well alive last I saw you, Miss Granger; stop playing games." When she stepped towards him, he took another step back. His mind in complete confusion; he hadn't killed her, she was still alive… Wasn't she?

"Are you so sure, Professor? Are you sure that your mind was not playing tricks on you; are you sure that what you saw was really true?" She took another step, and as she moved her feet, they made a very liquid-like sound.

He had never been this ill at ease since the first time he had seen Lupin after the wolf had tried to eat him alive. He looked at the girl warily as she took yet another step closer to him, wanting nothing more other than to simply bolt from her. "I am positive, Miss Granger, that you were still alive the last time that I saw you."

She stopped where she was and tilted her head back up to him, her face still devoid of any emotion. "It is your fault, Professor," She continued even as he looked away from her, "you killed us. You have betrayed us, we were right about you."

"Right about _what_ precisely? That I do not care?" He refused to look up at her, even when he heard a soft movement of cloth coming from her direction. _He would not look; he would not look at her…_

He heard her move towards him, and suddenly felt a small, cold hand touch his face. An unnaturally cold hand; he held back the shudder that wanted to take over his body at the realization. "Look at me, Professor Snape, look at what you have done to me."

He felt her hand move his face towards her. He needed to close his eyes, he needed to move away; he needed to do _something _so that he would not have to see what she wanted him to see. Unfortunately his morbid curiosity won over his instincts, and he instantly regretted it. He stared at her in silent horror, seeing an all too familiar sight before him. She was nude to show off the horrifying image that she had become. Starting from either side of her neck, all the way down to her pelvis were two single line incisions, both surrounded in grotesque bruises, blood still seeping out of the atrocious wounds. Her flesh was barely hanging on at the top of her neck, and it seemed as if the entirety of her mid-section moved in contrast with the rest of her body as she took another step forward. The liquid sound had been blood, he noted ruefully. He looked away from her again, a large lump starting to form in his throat. _This was not real… It was not REAL…_ "Go away."

"Why should I Professor? You are the one who has done this to me; _you _are the one who could have saved me. It is your fault, Professor, and nothing that you say will ever change it. We trusted you,"

Suddenly the voice changed, "and yet you killed us. Why? You swore that you would protect us, Severus; why did you betray us like this?"

His eyes wandered back to where the Granger girl had been, and in her stead was instead the image of Lily Potter. He cringed.

"You were not meant to die."

"I did, and I am not the only one who had died for your mistakes, Severus. Must have I been so wrong in protecting you? I cared for you, Severus, once…"

"I could not stop it… I was not your secret keeper…"

"You could have warned someone. You could have saved me. But you didn't did you… I am not the only one you have killed. There are others, others that you cared about and others that you did not. You kill everyone that you care for, everyone that cared for you, your family... You even killed Sirius. How could you?"

"Can you honestly blame me for not interrupting the death of someone that I loathe?" He stared into her intensely green eyes; eyes that he had come to hate over the years.

She whispered, "Yes…"

………………………………………………………………………He woke with a start; bolting upright within the bed, sweat pouring off of his body. Noticing that he was within the infirmary, he forced himself to appear calmer before someone took note of his condition. He looked across the room and noticed that Granger was still in bed. He quietly got up and went to her, checking briefly whether or not she was breathing. She was. She was still alive.

He sighed audibly, went back to the bed that he had just been occupying and fell back on it. He pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been _that _dream again, but Granger had never been in it before. _Bloody hell…_As if he needed another reminder of the events in his life. He honestly didn't need the stupid girl plaguing his dreams every night as well as all the others.

Suddenly he heard movement and he sat up again in time to see Poppy coming towards him with a goblet of some sort of liquid. He eyed it suspiciously as she handed it to him. "What is this?"

"Something that I thought would help, considering how much blood you lost last night…" She trailed off and he narrowed his eyes at her.

He smelled the liquid and nearly gagged, realizing what it was that she was trying to give him. In a sudden fit of anger he threw it across the room, leaving it to shatter against the far wall of the infirmary. "What in the bloody _hell _are you thinking? I have never once touched that _damnable _substance for those reasons in my _entire _life, what in the name of Merlin makes you think that I would be starting _now_?"

She stared at him blankly; opening and closing her mouth in a futile attempt to find the words she wished to say.

"Believe it or not, speech is actually made with something called sound, perhaps you should attempt to use it while speaking."

Finally she found her voice. "I only wanted to help, you did after all save Miss Granger last night…"

Suddenly his dream came back to him and before he could stop it he shuddered. He spoke softly, "Did I?" Before she could answer him, he continued. "When Miss Granger is well enough to move about, send her to my library, I will be waiting for her there." He then turned away from her and was gone.

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It had taken Hermione a mere two days to recover from her brush with death, though she had not been told how close she had literally been to meeting her parents once again. She felt odd, as if every one of her veins had begun to 'hum' inside of her body, as if there was some new awareness within her mind that had not been there before. Something had definitely happened to her while she had been unconscious, but what? She had obviously reached the infirmary before she passed out, even though she could not remember arriving. Poppy had told her that she had only given her one dosage of blood restorative potion, so she must not have lost _that _much blood. Maybe she couldn't remember because she was in shock.

Poppy had healed her hand before she had woken, but there were large scars over where she had been cut. Why hadn't she noticed how serious the wound was when she had received it? She then remembered the riddle. Oh yes, blame it on her curiosity.

She sighed as she reached the doorway to the library and took out her wand. Well, it was then or never… She recited the incantation and the bricks moved away. Well, at least he hadn't changed the password… She entered the all-too-familiar library and made sure that the entrance had once again closed. "It is about time, Miss Granger." She jumped slightly and turned to see Snape hovering nearby the door, glaring at her.

"Sir."

"You are _two _days late, Miss Granger; would you care to explain why this is?"

"Well sir, it would seem that I was unconscious and-"

"Exactly who's fault was that, Miss Granger? It was _not _my choice to mess with a frame that was never meant to be touched, it was _not _my choice to _run _to the infirmary when logic should have told you to do otherwise, Miss Granger; so whose fault was it, precisely?"

"Mine, sir."

"Exactly, Miss Granger. I am glad that your overly large brain is finally beginning to work again."

She spoke quietly, so low that he almost didn't hear her; but he did. "But it would have never happened had I not been locked in here. Don't you care that I almost died…"

He froze, and whipped around and moved in so fast that she did not have time to really process it. Her back was suddenly pressed against the hard surface of the wall behind her and he loomed over her like vulture stalking its prey. "Let me inform you, Miss Granger, that I do _not _care in the least whether or not you could have died two nights ago. It was your own stupidity that led you into that situation, so do not think that I would praise you for it." Her gaze fell and he sneered, noting the aggrieved look on the girl's face. "What did you think? That I would see you walk in here and that I would be so elated that you were alive that I would simply 'jump for joy' as the phrase goes? Do not be so mistaken, Miss Granger; if you were to simply drop dead at this very moment, I would only be so discontented with the fact that there was a dead body in my library."

She looked at him, obviously stricken by his horrid words. "But… But why… I thought this would be different, that _you _would be different…" She was starting to feel exhausted and defeated. Was it always going to be like this?

He moved away from her. "You wanted this, now you have it. What, did you actually think; that I was some kind of tortured soul that you could coax into eating from your hand? Stupid girl…" He narrowed his eyes. "As if someone like you could ever possibly change me…" He stared at her in silence a moment before he continued. "I have left your new assignment on the desk in the corner I showed you before. Read it carefully, read the books you need to, and then seek me out after you think that you may be ready. I expect you to contact me by dinner tomorrow night. I do not care how tired you may be from your… _incident; _I expect this to be done. Is this understood?" She quickly nodded and he smirked. "Good. Just remember that you brought this upon yourself. See you tomorrow."

She stared after him as he left the library, her eyes wide. Finally she sighed, her anger once again forming in the pit of her stomach. _Bastard._

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A/N- Just so you know Viscus Insipio means 'begin heart' and Invidus Spiritus means 'unwilling breath'. As always, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and please review!


	12. Quandary

A/N- Once again I will thank my beta excessivelyperky. I would also like to thank all of you wonderful reviewers out there, you do inspire.

Disclaimer- gets out a huge package of post-its and writes 'Not mine, though I wish it' on every single one, and plasters them over the entire story. Author looks at the now yellowed story and quirks her brow at it. Hmm. I hope I was not too excessive with the post-its…

……………………………………………………………………………………………… **_Chapter 12- Quandary_**

She fumed for the next half hour- _git, insufferable miserable git._ How dare he! He talked to her as if she were nothing more than the equivalent of a plastic cup. Bastard. To release her frustrations she picked up a few of the trinkets that were lying decoratively on the shelves and threw them across the library. It was odd, how throwing things could alleviate one's mood.

She sighed; it was no use, really, to put off her work any longer. She had to have it done by the next day and procrastination was never the best way to get things done. Her anger dissipated- somewhat-, she went to her desk, looked at the assignment and growled in frustration. It would have been easy, look up a potion and read its effects.

She could do that. BUT it was not so easy. Of course not; after all, it WAS Snape that she was dealing with, the bastard. Not realizing it, she mimicked Snape's sneer as she read over the note again.

_Miss Granger,_

_Your assignment is to research the Restore Spine Salve, it should be found in the index. Take notes on how it is made, and study the effects of the ingredients, etc. I wish you to be done no later than dinner tomorrow._

_Happy Studies,_

_S.S_

She crumpled up the letter and opened the larger of the two books in front of her. Of course, the index was not in alphabetical order (Of course it wouldn't be, it would be far too easy if it were…), and it covered nearly fifteen pages. Still, that wasn't the impossible part of the entire thing. She sighed again as she started to flip through the thick, but smaller dictionary that he had also left on the desk. _Romanian, _the entire bloody book was in _Romanian_.

It took her nearly a half hour to find it. Reintegra şira Spinării Unguent- at least she had found it. Now… Just to translate the rest of the bloody thing… It was going to be a very long night. And as she turned to the page in question, or _pages_ rather, she groaned.

It would be a very long night indeed.

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Snape sat at his desk within his personal quarters, his face buried within his hands. _Bloody hell._ The stupid girl didn't know… She didn't know that he had saved her, nor did she know how; not that she wouldn't learn about what had happened, bearing in mind the side effects that would surface soon enough. He swore underneath his breath and clenched his fists within his own hair. It wasn't really fair, to be honest. It would truly be a pain in the ass once those bloody effects decided to kick in. He would have to tread more carefully-- block himself off more so than he normally did around the girl.

His insults wouldn't be enough to lead her astray then, it would take more. He would have to steer clear of her, to block her out completely- for her own safety of course. He breathed deeply in through his nose. He knew what could happen; he had watched his mother do it before. Though she hadn't done it to save a life, in fact, she had done it for the exact opposite reasons. As much as he didn't like the girl, he did not desire her to suffer his more… darker moods. Inwardly he hoped that the effects on her were not as severe as what he had once witnessed in his childhood. It shouldn't be really, considering he was devoid of the more… disquieting effects of his predecessors.

He had lied to her, not that he cared how she felt about him. No, he would rather that she hated him; at least she wouldn't bother him then. He actually had been a bit relieved when she had walked in the library, and he wasn't about to say that he had spent the past two days waiting next to the door waiting for the little chit to arrive. He had saved her, and he was worried that maybe… MAYBE it hadn't worked. It was the dream. That bloody, awful dream that plagued him ever since he was a child, first by his father, and then by _them_; the people that had plagued him for most of his life, even after death. The Potters.

As the years went by the dream changed little by little, adding people that he had killed, or was responsible for. He hated it, feeling guilty like that. It was why he usually drank a dreamless sleep potion before bed. He had no happy dreams- not that he would know what _happy _was, really; taking to mind the fact that he himself could never successfully conjure a Patronus of any sort. No, he had no happy memories; in fact the best of his memories had been of revenge, or of his only friend, Albus.

Those were definitely not strong enough to conjure such a terrible thing. No, his own miserable existence staved off the Dementors. They usually steered clear of him, for some reason. He always figured it was because he already was so plagued with his own dreadful memories, so much so that there was nothing left for them to feed off of.

Attempting to leave his reverie, he decided to go to bed. He undressed until he was entirely nude, and slipped underneath the four or five heavy covers that lie atop his bed. He quickly drank down a single portion of his usual dreamless sleep potion and then rested back onto the mass of pillows beneath him. Oh yes he, one Severus Snape, slept in complete luxury. Not to mention it was wonderful for his back.

This thought drove him to think about the assignment he had just given the girl. It was the ideal one, really. Once she had it finished, which should take around a dozen tries, with a little help of course- seeing as the girl was _far _too perfect for her own good, he would have her make it once a month. Then he would teach her other potions that were required to be brewed upon a regular basis, and thus securing himself a more leisurely lifestyle for the next four years. Yes, it would be perfect. It would have been easier had the assignment been in English; had it been, he would have expected it done by breakfast. But as it were, the only copy of that particular potion was in Romanian, so being _slightly _kind to her, he gave her a small extension. Though for some reason, within the back of his mind, he believed she just might be done by breakfast anyway. Probably strolling in with laughter in her face, and a deviant smile that would say 'See, you insufferable bastard, I _can _do things on time. You see, I very well deserve to be here…'

With this image dancing on the edges of his brain, he closed his eyes, and fell into the most blissful, dreamless, sleep.

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The next morning Snape arrived late for breakfast, half expecting Granger to be there. She wasn't. Oh well, so much for intuition. He sneered at his own thoughts and swiftly took his seat next to Minerva, who, intrusively according to him, decided to make a conversation with him. Bloody woman.

"So when is it that we will see your lovely apprentice, dear Severus? You have not locked her permanently away have you?" Though her tone was merry, her eyes squinted in accusation.

He snorted at her, not bothering to turn his head away from the plate that was in front of him. "Lovely, Minerva? I would hardly call her such a thing. Lovely would be someone who would be conservative enough not to flaunt his or her knowledge in front of everyone. In my opinion, she is no better than Malfoy had been. He shows off his bloodline, she shows off her mind. Is there truly a dissimilarity?" To this he turned his eyes to her, long enough to notice that her mouth was hanging open in a manner that made him believe she was searching for words. He continued. "And if you are attempting to accuse me of having the girl chained to the wall within 'the deep, dark, horrible dungeon', then you are quite mistaken. She has been given another assignment, and _should _be arriving to at least one of the meals today. Whether or not she appears for any others will be her own decision."

The woman responded with a small 'Hm' and continued to eat. After another five minutes or so, she turned to him again, speaking softly. "How is Miss Granger's hand, by the way?"

He stabbed his fork sharply onto the plate in front of him, gripping it so tightly within his hand that he could feel his skin start to rip. He pressed his lips together for a moment. She knew. She fucking knew, and she had the nerve to ask him of it. Deciding that he would answer only to be somewhat courteous, he forced his breath out. "_Fine."_ He answered tightly, hoping that she would get the hint, and leave it be.

She smiled briefly to his answer and turned back to her own plate. "Thank you, Severus, for saving her for the second time."

He threw down his fork, making a rather loud 'tink'. As he began to march out of the hall, a mischievous glint entered Minerva's eyes and she gave herself a toothy smile. In order to make it clear that he was irritated, he slammed the doors open on his way out, thoroughly disturbed. That conniving old woman was up to something, but what?

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When lunch finally arrived, he had decided to take Hermione's designated seat. After what had happened at breakfast, there was no chance in hell that he would sit next to McGonagall again. At least not for _that _particular day, and he didn't give a rat's ass whether or not Hermione actually would come for lunch. SHE could sit next to Minerva for all he cared. He wasn't going to move, and that was simply final.

Shortly after the meal began, he noticed a certain someone enter the room. It had been the wrong meal, but he _had _been correct on how she was walking towards the head table. She practically skipped, a wild grin upon her face as she hummed. She hesitated momentarily before she took her seat next to him. Before she could make a comment, he spoke instead.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger, you have finished your assignment astonishingly ahead of time. Do _try _and keep up this pace, it is rather preferable to the habit that you seem to have gotten yourself into."

Her eyes widened. "I am _rarely _ever late, and you know it!"

He raised his brow to her. "Do I, Miss Granger? How much did you actually think that I paid attention to you whilst you were in school? I noticed you long enough to realize that I did not particularly like you, so do _not _tell me what I must have noticed about you. You silly little girl, would you think that even had I paid more attention to you, that I would base your current attendance record on how you were in school? I do not know why, but it would seem that your 'tardiness' during your apprenticeship with me is entirely substantial. It would seem to me that you do not feel this apprenticeship is your top priority. Is it, Miss Granger? Do you actually wish to gain your Mastery? Because from what I have seen within this last month, I doubt it."

Her expression passed from shocked, to angry, to horrified within a few seconds. "I do want it, sir! Otherwise I would not have asked you for it." She was silent a moment before she continued on. "Besides, it would do me no good to slack off now, I do have nearly a full four years to go yet."

"Do you, Miss Granger? Four years seems an awfully long time to keep an apprentice who refuses to do as they are told." He regarded her a moment, and for the second time since he had taken her on, he made the decided to call her bluff. "I _could _end it, you know. You could go home, perhaps to university and gain your certificate of academic achievement like you had planned before this silly notion of becoming my apprentice. It is in the contract, Miss Granger, I may end this for you now; it may not be offered to you again."

She scrunched her nose at his words. "I read the contract at least three times, and I never saw anything about that. As to what I read, the only way out is death."

He looked back down at his food, allowing his hair to fall into his face before he allowed his amused smirk to show itself. "Perhaps, Miss Granger, you did not read it as well as you had thought, for it is the first clause of the contract. There are a total of four clauses that are, in fact, printed on that parchment."

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

"_WHAT _clauses?" She was so confused that she was starting to panic. She had read it! She knew she had, there was no such clause on that paper… Was there?

"Tut, tut, Miss Granger, you obviously did not look in the correct areas of the contract. But nonetheless, the offer shall stand. Choose wisely, Miss Granger, this may be the only opportunity that you will have to leave this apprenticeship. Yet if you leave, you will not have the ability to learn under any Master of the field. So what shall it be? Will you show more interest in your studies than what you have displayed to me thus far?"

She bit her lip as she stared at him. He seemed so… _uninterested _at how she would decide. He hated her, and she had an honest chance of dying if she stayed, that she had learned just a few short days ago, and he didn't even show the slightest hint at caring. So why _should _she stay? After all, very few actually attained their Mastery anyway… She looked up to him, and proceeded to tell him his answer.

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A/N- Once again to be nice I will give you the language translation. Reintegra şira Spinării Unguent - Restore Spine Salve

Once again I would like to thank you for doing this for me, you did a great job on the last chapter. :)


	13. Temper, Temper

A/N- Thank you for your reviews, I love them all. Just to let you know, I have paid attentions to some of your hints and suggestions, and have taken some of them to heed. (Though I am not going to say what they are as they pertain to a future chapter…) Anyway, I apologize for the slight delay. I am currently writing the next chapter, so hopefully it shouldn't be too long before the next chapter.

Disclaimer- A rabid raccoon comes into sight, holding a sign that says 'This story is mine'. Copyright mongers then carry the raccoon away and the sign is then burned. Obviously, the raccoon owned nothing, and nor do I.

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_**Chapter 13- Temper, Temper**_

Severus watched through his hair as the girl's eyes narrowed. He looked back down to the table, feeling the horrible weight of her gaze on him. What the bloody hell was taking so long for her to answer him? Was she honestly considering the offer?

Bile started rise within back of his throat. _NO, definitely not, she wouldn't. _She would never agree to simply end such an opportunity, especially if she knew the full terms of it. Would she? If she did, he would certainly write the Ministry and try to get the clauses changed within the contract. He knew, for a fact, she would have no interest in the true way out of her apprenticeship. In truth, he was absolutely positive she would find it even more loathsome an idea than he did.

As the minutes dragged on, he began to feel nervous. What if he had been wrong about her? Was she actually so weak that after the past month, she would simply quit? He had seen her weaker side after her parents had been murdered, unfortunately for him, but she hid the weakness well. A thought popped into his head unintentionally that made his stomach churn. _Her ability to hide her emotions reminds me of myself. _

He clenched his jaw at his traitorous mind. _She is nothing_. Never has been anything, nor _will _she ever be anything to him. Ever. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind he felt that odd twinge of hope that she might actually stay. Perhaps because he knew that she was in a way like him; and knowing that if he were right about that particular fact, then he would meet the same fate as his own predecessor. Odd, how much he morbidly craved that. He wouldn't have to worry about a decent replacement, if he were right about her abilities. She could take his place very easily when he was finished with her.

He continued to stare at the table in front of him, impatiently awaiting her response, not allowing any of his inner thoughts show upon his face or manner. Slowly, as even more minutes passed, the nervousness changed into agitation, and from agitation, to outright fury. He lifted his gaze to her again, noticing that her eyes had not shifted from him, as if she were still considering the bloody decision. _What in the bloody name of Merlin himself was taking the sodding girl so bloody fucking long to decide?_ "Miss Granger, would you perchance be making your decision today?"

What seemed to be a flash of anger passed over her features briefly before her gaze became more neutral. He had that horribly inane thought return to him about how much she resembled him sometimes. _Merlin! _He was going to lose his mind before this was over. She looked down and mumbled something, though all he could make out was 'just to bloody irritate him further, bastard.'

He raised his brow. "Pardon? I did not quite hear your answer. Usually you are so ready to flaunt that insignificant brain of yours, that you merely screech your answers out devoid of warning."

She groaned, and turned back to him, her eyes narrowed. She hissed, "_Yes,"_ and then looked back down to her plate.

"Yes you will stay, or yes you will take my offer? Clarity is sometimes beneficial to understanding, and I do not believe that I understand you clearly; considering the fact that I have mentioned two separate things."

"YES! Yes I will maintain this apprenticeship, you impertinent prat! You have practically starved me, and I have already all but died, I do believe I will stick it out for whatever other sadistic games you wish to play. _Dear _Master, do _not _worry yourself on my behalf. I can clearly _take care of myself!" _With her sudden outburst, she shoved herself away from the table, and half-ran out of the hall.

Snape merely sat back into his chair, lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice to his lips, and muttered out the word 'Clearly' before taking a sip. He ignored the fact that everyone present within the hall had turned their gaze towards him during the girl's outburst and allowed himself to smirk. He had been correct. She might hate him, but she obviously valued her education more.

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She paced inside the library after the next day's breakfast. Thankfully the man was not there, so she had instead decided to vent to her old mentor Professor McGonagall. She had been so upset the day before, that she had asked the house-elves for dinner in her room, because she had no desire to see the man again so soon. The bastard, he had actually thought that she would have taken him up on his offer. She had initially been tempted to take it on the grounds that she couldn't stand him, but decided otherwise. It was too valuable an opportunity. Not to mention, that try as hard as she might, she really didn't hate the man. She wanted to, she was irritated enough at him to be, but she simply couldn't do so. Damn, and blast it anyway. After what had happened a year ago…

She sighed; sinking down onto the chair that she had decided was now 'hers'. He might not have helped her voluntarily at that point in time, but he had done it. Saved her, in a way, that is. It was that moment that she had been thinking about after he had asked her to make his decision; trying to decide whether or not he had meant it when he had told her that he would personally see to it that no harm would come to her from that night on. Then he had to go and make fun of her. There were times she felt that he was somehow being nice, but then there were other times that the man was the world's most callous git. The day before was an example of the later. In fact, the last entire _month _had been an example of the latter. She groaned, wondering briefly if she would ever be able to figure the man out, if in fact he actually _cared _for anything but himself. There were times she honestly believed he did, but then he would distance himself, or do something horrid to counteract whatever it was to make her think such a foolish thing.

And she was starting to believe in everything that her heart wanted to tell her otherwise- That Snape was in truth, a very horrible person.

She was suddenly forced out of her reverie by the library door moving. The irritated figure that was better known as 'the greasy git' came in behind her, and firmly placed one of his hands on the back of her chair and the other on the desk. He then leaned in, bringing his nose into her long bushy hair, and his lips uncomfortably close to her ears. "I would like to remind you, _Granger, _that you are my apprentice. How I decide to reprimand you, as well as treat you, is my own decision, not yours. Do keep that in mind when you decide to rattle your tongue to your previous Head of House. Because of your slip-up I have decided on two things. The first being that once again your seat is to be on my other side, the second being that I have reduced the time for you to make your potion by precisely one hour. There will be no screw-ups, Granger, you will have the exact time allowed in order to get everything done when done properly. Do this, and I will allow you a 'day off', though, I doubt that you will."

She turned up to glare at him. "She is my friend! How dare you tell me that I cannot speak with her!"

"Do be quiet Miss Granger, you try my patience." She opened her mouth to speak again when she felt a finger press firmly onto her lips, squashing them painfully.

"If you so much as utter a single syllable to contradict what I say, I _will _take your privileges of talking to _anyone _away, Miss Granger."

He wouldn't… Would he? She pursed her brows together. What exactly did he mean by that anyway? Take her 'privileges' away to talk? Lock her in the library again? Honestly… She crossed her arms. "And I can do anyth-"

Just as she began to speak, he hissed, "_Silentium vox vocis_!" A sudden numbness traveled down from where his finger lay upon her lips down to her throat. Suddenly, her voice was gone, and she stared at him wide-eyed. He moved his hand from her lips to her chin to seize it and tilt it towards him so that she looked him directly in the eyes. "Do not believe that I shall go easy on you. Do _not _believe that there is anything that I would not do in order instruct you properly; as I am very sure you did not heed my warning just then. I willnot tolerate your disobedience of me, nor shall I tolerate you complaining to every creature within earshot of your 'misfortunes'." With a slight jerk he released her and stood back up, fully aware of the glare she was now giving him. "And do wipe that look off of your face, Miss Granger. Your current situation was entirely of your own doing. Now follow me, if you are to begin brewing this potion, it must commence now if you have any desire for 'free' time after dinner."

As he twirled around she stood, absolutely livid. What in the bloody hell did she do to deserve _that_? She absently rubbed at her throat, wishing away the odd numbness that had settled there. It was unfair. Everything he had done within the last month had been unfair. And what about those 'hidden' clauses that he had told her about? He had only told her of one, so what could the other three be?

She suddenly lost the will to be angry with him, her curiosity taking a firm hold within her mind. It was only one more mystery to add to the masses that were piling before her. She followed him out of the library, studying the way that his robe flew out behind him, the way he walked, the way that he held himself. It was at this precise moment that she figured out what would help keep her sane during her four-year tenure.

She would solve the biggest mystery of all the ones that she had already found, believing that come what may, all the smaller mysteries she had uncovered would somehow help expose the central one; Professor Severus Snape, Master of Potions, himself.

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A/N- Translation: _Silentium vox vocis_- Silent voice in Latin, just in case you were wondering. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and as always, please review. It always inspires.


	14. A New Trick

A/N- Well, here is the next chapter, as promised. :) Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer- I own only one character, and that is Elhys Capivah. The rest are spied on, kidnapped, tortured, obliviated and then kindly returned to the person who does own them.

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_**Chapter 14- A New Trick**_

He watched her as she wordlessly went about her current task. She wouldn't have known that he was watching her though, considering the fact that he had retired -momentarily- to his own personal quarters. He currently sat in a very large, cushy chair in front of The Mirror of Capivah. At least, that is what he called it, as the mirror had once belonged to the former Headmaster of the school. All he had to do was stand before it and he could see the miscellaneous things that went on within the school. It was how he knew when, where and _how _things were going to happen around the school most of the time. His friend Albus, was simply eerie about the things he knew sometimes, he on the other hand, cheated, making others think that he could use legilimency at a far distance.

It was a forbidden object, much like the Mirror of Erised. It had been long forgotten, and he still did not know its true name. Every time he looked within he remembered the one who had oddly given it to him. Elhys Capivah, former Headmistress of Hogwarts, no matter how short her term had been, cryptically beautiful and just as conniving as one of the Fates themselves. He sometimes wondered if she had been one. She had told him of its hiding place when he had only been a first year, and though he did not find it until he began his tenure as part of the staff within the castle, it had been precisely where she had said it was. It made him wonder why he had not looked for it sooner. The mirror allowed for a clear sight of anything that was going on within a three-mile radius, perfect for stalking the unaware students of the institution where he worked; the perfect armament to keep them in line. If the fear he struck in at least _one _of the students kept them out of trouble, then it was worth it.

So he watched. He watched as she gracefully cut the ingredients, perfectly on time in precise movements. He silently mused over the fact that she would in fact make a good Potions Mistress when the time came for it. But in the meantime…

He suddenly remembered his talk with Minerva earlier. How dare the woman come to him and offer advice to _him _of all people. Damnable woman. To spite himself he mocked her within his mind. _Do be considerate of her, Severus. The happier she is, the better she will work, you know._ Bah.

Except he knew that the words were the truth. _Merlin be damned_, but the girl actually _liked _to study. She was as odd as he had been at her age. And there was that thought again, for the millionth time within the last seven years- had she been in Slytherin, she would have been a female version of himself. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he was glad that she had been sorted into the house that she had. He also envied her for that as well. She had friends. He had never really had one until Albus…

_Bloody hell. _He hadn't realized consciously that he had been reflecting about the past until that moment. He scoffed at himself and decided to begin his new little 'experiment'- if one could really call it that. He eyed the almost clear amber liquid in the glass next to him. He didn't like drinking, but it had to be done, for the sake of the experiment. It was the only way to… Well, _one _of the only ways to perform his little test. The other way was unthinkable. No, he would never touch that particular substance, just as he had told Poppy, Albus, his Mother and the Dark Lord himself. Never, no matter how much his life was staked on the option. It was hard enough to keep control of his darker urgings under the influence of alcohol; he did not even wish to ponder what he might do if under the influence of _that. _

As he watched her slowly add the eighth part of finely grated mandrake root into the potion, he took a sip. A very _tiny _sip of excessively watered down rum, hoping that it would be enough for what he wanted to do.

The liquid sweetly went down his throat and he repressed a shiver from the pleasure that suddenly coursed through his veins at the presence of the liquid. A thirst burst from his mind, and he fought to control it. He grimaced. Yes, that would be enough for what he wanted.

Finely, after making his lip bleed during his fight to keep control, he turned back to the mirror. He could read her lips as she silently counted the number of times she needed to stir the mixture. _13, 14, 15… _It was almost time... She finished the seventeenth counter-clockwise stroke, switched directions for one singular stroke, and promptly lifted the spoon from the cauldron. She placed the spoon next to the cauldron and went to go get something to read. She soon picked up something, carried it back towards the cauldron, and sat down across from it, probably so that she would have the ability to watch the cauldron for the next three hours or so that remained before the next step.

He touched the mirror where she appeared within, clearing his mind of all distractions. If it were going to work, then he would need to fully concentrate on the girl. He smirked as he thought of exactly what to do, and concentrated on his task.

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Hermione had returned to the library earlier to find a book for her to read during the first forty-five minute pass of time as the potion had simmered. She had not been there long when she had found an interesting title mixed in with a few fantasy stories. _The Complete Gathering of failed Potions Apprenticeships- A Basic Outlook_.

When she first saw it, she immediately snatched it off of the shelf. Perhaps it would lead her to the answers that she so craved about a few of the things that plagued the back of her mind, other than the ruddy Potions Master himself of course. The first had been about Ron's uncle- and the second had been the strange desire to want to know more about her Master's apprenticeship.

When she had begun to read it, she knew why it had been hidden. It simply was not one to be read with a light heart. It spoke of rape, torture, murder, poison, and utter madness. Her mouth had gone dry as she read them, forcing her to see why everyone had been shocked to see her apply for such an apprenticeship. Most of what she had read so far had been from the lesser, 'kinder' Masters. She wondered in morbid curiosity how Severus' Master had been, considering only one of his students had reached Mastery, and that had only been in the man's death. She shivered at the thought.

Just as she was about to read about an apprentice from Spain, her hand, of its own volition, grabbed the page she was reading, tore it out of the book, crumpled it up, and threw it across from her- where she heard a sickening 'plop'. _No! _Why… How… SHE HAD NOT MEANT TO DO THAT! She quickly dropped the book and rushed to her cauldron. _No, no, no, no, no…_ She let loose a silent scream as she looked inside. The paper had landed in it, right smack dab in the bloody middle of it, and a nasty brown color was beginning to seep from it into the still brewing potion.

It was ruined. Snape was going to kill her. No, scratch that, he was going to laugh at her, mock her, and then inform her that he had been correct after all. Bloody hell. _It was ruined!_ If her voice had been working at that point, she would have screamed so loud that everyone occupying Hogwarts would have heard her. Instead, she decided on throwing herself a small, private temper tantrum, jumping up and down and then gave the lab table a very nasty punch.

She let out a sob. Why couldn't she ever prove herself to him? She had tried, and now… Now she had ruined the potion, and she honestly couldn't remember _why _she had thrown it. It was as if… as if she had absolutely no control over her own arm. As if she had no control to stop it. That thought alone terrified her. She sunk to her knees, feeling completely defeated for the moment. Hermione Granger _never _failed anything. Ever. Yet, sitting in front of her was a completely useless potion, and because of this, her Master was going to be furious. Not because she failed, no, she was positive that he would be outright giddy on that point, but that one; she had just ruined one of his personal books, and two; she had unnecessarily wasted two whole succubus tears. They were expensive and very hard to find unless you knew where to get them, and the only way to learn that was to know a private black arts dealer. Not a very fun matter, really.

Suddenly the door slammed open, allowing a certain greasy black entity to enter the room, looking entirely livid. He stopped in front of her abruptly, narrowing his eyes at her and then shifting them coolly towards the potion. His face twisted into an amused smirk. Well, at least she had gotten _that _part of his reaction correctly.

He looked back down to her. "I see that you have… irreparably damaged your potion, Miss Granger. Tisk tisk. You should revel in the fact that even you can fail at something. I was expecting something more… _subtle_ than this, but I suppose anyone could simply mess up the timing. But this… This _atrocity_ is not to be tolerated. Throwing a page of a book that is not even yours into a potion that is not even done. You do realize that in your brash attempt with madness you wasted two succubus tears?" He turned from her, picking up the book she had been reading and tossed it to her. "I believe you were reading this. I believe that I am finished… For now. Clean up your catastrophe, and you may have the rest of the day off, considering there is no time to even try to meet your deadline. You will resume tomorrow after breakfast." He walked to the door, paused within its frame as he tossed back at her, "Oh, and Miss Granger?" She looked up at him.

"Due to your improper behavior, purposefully ruining a potion that until that stage had been perfect and the undue damage of personal property, I am going to add four more days to your punishment. Do try and have a good day, Miss Granger. I do not desire a repeat of this tomorrow." He then left, softly closing the door behind him.

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He barely even made it into his quarters before he broke down and laughed outright. The look of confusion on the girl's face had made the joke all the sweeter. If she had known that she had not done anything, she probably would have killed him. Actually, that had been the reason that he had let her off as easily he did.

His experiment had worked. The connection was there. He drew his mouth up into a small tight smile. That would make his job easier, the ability to make her do things like that. She would never have the ability to actually catch him 'red handed' at slipping things into her cauldron as she worked. He had blamed her for the succubus tears, but he didn't really care. He had twenty-three bottles of the stuff, and each one contained at least one hundred tears in it. He was in absolutely no fear of running out any time soon, especially when one took into heart that no known recorded potion ever required more than five. Of course, he was not about to let her know that particular secret.

Nor would she find out his other secrets just yet. The girl was only halfway to solving the puzzle of the frame, and he wasn't going to allow the girl to learn anything about his apprenticeship. At least, not just yet… It was too… Too… He pursed his lips together in an attempt to figure out what the emotion was that was attached to that sentiment. After a moment, he settled on 'painful', but knew that there was more to it than that. Much more.

He sat down at his desk, opening a drawer as he did. He gingerly took out three pieces of paper and skimmed until he found the name that rested often inside of his head. The only other apprentice of his Master's that he had ever met. Valkyrie Monroe.

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A/N- If you can guess what Snape is descended from by what I have said in this chapter, I will have to praise you, and pour onto you many house points. In the meantime, please review; it is ever appreciated.


	15. More Than Hate?

A/N- Sorry for the wait, but between me and my beta, Christmas got the best of us. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy this chapter as it starts to look more into his past. Part of the 'go into details about Snape's history' part of the challenge…

Disclaimer- ::A miniature Snape inside a bottle appears and high-pitched shouting is heard from within:: Let me out of here! You don't own me! What is the bloody meaning of this? Return me at once! ::A red-haired figure runs off with the bottle, laughing maniacally as she does so. The bottle is labeled 'Property of J.K. Rowling.'::

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**_Chapter 15- More than Hate?_**

He softly moved his thumb over the text. _Valkyrie Monroe- the thirteenth apprentice of Potions __Master__Diggory McCarthy. The lesser known apprentice, and usually uncounted due to her current status, resides within St. Mungo's because of the permanent loss of her more intelligible faculties, the result of an unfortunate accident that occurred three years before she had completed her apprenticeship. She is also the mother of Constance Monroe, Master Diggory McCarthy's only daughter. After McCarthy's accidental self-poisoning, Constance Monroe refused all natural inheritances, leaving them to be claimed by the only other charge that he had. Severus Snape is the current owner of McCarthy's large estate and fortune as well as the numerous properties, items and potions that he owned. Many have accredited him to gaining his Mastery because of his higher abilities as a godling._

He sneered at that. Godling. What a bloody piece of work they made it out to be, as if the reason he had passed had been because of his ancestry instead of his own dubious plot. Yes, definitely a dubious plot considering it had taken him a full three years before he was able to pull it off. It was a difficult undertaking if it was taken into account that he had spent those three years while he was still attending Hogwarts. He had to focus on his academia, his work on his apprenticeship, his standing in the ranks of the Deatheaters as well as working on his plot to become a Master himself. He had known better than to believe that after all his hard work the man would simply sign his Mastery and let him go. No, not Diggory McCarthy, the man was too sadistic for that. All one had to do to confirm that was to look at the lovely Valkyrie Monroe and the way the woman moved and spoke at his every command. It had never been an 'accident' that had caused Valkyrie to act at all times like she had undergone the Imperious; he had learned that from his unwilling spy. So he had plotted and planned. He would gain his Mastery, and he would gain it from Diggory McCarthy, or he would die trying.

His plan had been successful, he gained his Mastery, Constance lived on one of the properties that he now owned, and Valkyrie Monroe lived in St. Mungo's being slightly more than a vegetable. Now, it was his turn to teach, and he would teach in the same fashion that he had been taught. Though he would teach the girl without all the 'attachments' involved. He was better than that. Wasn't he?

He frowned as he read over it again. _Valkyrie Monroe, Valkyrie Monroe…_ She had been the one person that he had met in his life that he had pitied. McCarthy had complete control over the woman, she could not move, she could not speak without his say. She was the main reason that he had never taken an apprentice before Hermione Granger, the resident know-it-all of Hogwarts. People would whisper of Valkyrie, of the atrocities she endured, of the way the Ministry just overlooked it as if it were nothing. When they spoke of people losing their minds due to Potions apprenticeships, it was her that he would see in his mind's eye, for she was the one person that he knew that had _literally _lost her mind.

Something occurred to him suddenly, making his frown deepen. It was the realization that after the blood transfusion, he could control his apprentice as McCarthy had done, even if only for short intervals. He clenched one of his hands; he wouldn't allow it to progress any further. He wouldn't allow it to make her lose her mind. He simply couldn't…

An ache began to form within him, an ache that he could only describe as pain coming from his soul, if he in fact still had one. He choked on a sob that tried to force its way out and did as he always had done to keep the sudden pain at bay. He scooted his chair back against the wall, and pressed his arm firmly against the corner that was there. He moved it back and then swung it forward hard. Again, and again, and again.

The physical pain that ebbed out of his arm slowly replaced the metaphysical pain he suffered inside. He grit his teeth, pressing his arm more forcefully into the wood with every satisfying blow. It was numbing, the pain, a pain that he oddly, in some demented way, missed ever since Riddle was finally defeated. The pain… thwack… brought focus… thwack… relieved unwanted emotions… thwack… would clear the mind, rejuvenate the soul, and bring him a false sense of peace within his tormented soul thwack… It meant that he was still alive when he should not be…

The pain would make him forget that he worried too much about his apprentice… He brought his arm back for a final time and swung it at the corner as hard as he possibly could. **_CRACK._ **He hissed in pain as the grotesque sound echoed through his quarters. A sudden stomach churning spasm of near pleasure passed briefly through his body before the more annoying throbbing took over. He looked down at his now limp arm, smirking. Another broken bone to add to the many other, uncounted ones…

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It hadn't taken her long to clean up her mess. He hadn't, after all, forbidden her to use magic in order to clean it. The moment she was done she returned to her quarters, bringing the book she had just found with her.

The text never went into complete details about the fates of the many people within its pages, but was far clearer on the facts, the underlying secrets, than the other book had been. Briefly she wondered why the two were so substantially different, despite the fact that they held the same basic reference material. She shook her head over that thought and continued to read. She read of deaths, loss of miscellaneous appendages, accidents with sometimes disturbing results, and odd ways out of contracts. That made her wonder if her own contract had some sort of 'price' as was mentioned in most of the others. Some had been blood, a keepsake, as simple as a lock of hair, or as complicated as being forced to have… 'relations'… with one's Master. She blushed at the thought of it, idly wondering if her contract had such complicated means of escape. If it had, Snape had implied the breaking of it, which would mean…

She cleared her throat. One simple, annoying month in the man's presence and she was starting to act like a love struck imbecile. Not that she was, considering she hated him resolutely. Didn't she? He was revolting, rude and -contrary to what she had thought before- was completely horrible, especially to her. And he had been, every day; every blasted, bloody damned day. So here she was, against all reason, all rationality, _thinking _about him… and _her_… It had been an indirect thing, but as she began to think on it, the more she wanted to know if she were right, and that thought forced her to think about it more, making images appear within her head that no sane person should honestly think of regarding the impossible git. She was beginning to think of him as… As a man…

It had seemed so simple, so wrong… but so extremely complex. As if she had somehow broken some strange law of nature. But strangely it seemed right… Thinking of him as human, it made her feel as if he might be weak somehow. Maybe not as horrible deep down, well maybe just as horriblebut perhaps he had a soul. Perhaps he cared for something, or someone… Just perhaps…

She sighed and continued to read, half skimming it over as she continued on; until she read a name that forced her thoughts back to what she had been doing. Duncan Weasley. _The last serving apprentice to Charles M. Massing, Duncan J. Weasley is most famed for his bout of insanity. Most claim that he is still unstable, though a select few believe that he should be released from confinement. Others agree that his crimes against-_

Her eyes went wide. _NO! No, no, no, no, no! _What sort of sick joke was this? She looked at the bottom of the page where she had left off, and to the top of the next page, which spoke something of Diggory McCarthy in closing statements. The pages jumped from 677 to 685. There were exactly three whole pages _missing. _And it seemed that those three pages contained everything that she desired to learn from this book. In a sudden fit of rage, she tossed it across the room, falling down to her bed, burying her head into her mattress, and screamed, or at least a breathy facsimile of it considering the bastard still hadn't let her have her voice back yet. Bastard, she reasoned, was a far better thing to think of him at the moment. She sighed, sitting up on her bed. The moment she got her voice back, she was going to scream. Not in her bed, not in the privacy of her rooms, but at him. Not intelligible words of precise hatred, but just a plain, animalistic scream. Yes… That would be wonderful. Who cared if he took away her voice for the remaining three plus years after she was done with it anyway? At least she would have the ability to see what he looked like when he was surprised…

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The next day she had met him in his personal lab, and once again attempted to brew the potion. This time, he did not leave. No, he would not leave; he would not go through with his initial plans and would instead go about it in the same fashions that would be of normal circumstances.

Snape seated himself behind the girl, retrieved a book from a drawer underneath the table and proceeded to read. It was odd, how he liked to read muggle books. In fact, he liked many things muggle to the point it was almost an obsession. An obsession that was more than likely close in comparison to that of Weasley himself, not that he would ever admit it. Especially since he desired the finer things of the muggle world. Paintings, literature and the new thing he had discovered called 'theatre'. And not the traditional kind either, some strange newfangled thing that was on a very big screen with a hundred or so people that surrounded it. He had wondered how it had worked, so he was reading about it.

He had disguised the book as '_The Anthology of Potions-1597'_ simply for the fact that had Hermione known that he was actually reading '_Behind the Scenes of Cinematography'_ she would have burst out laughing, and he would have lost any respect the girl might actually still hold onto for him. Not that he expected it after everything that had happened in the last month… But still, it was the thought.

When she had been in the room working for nearly an hour, he looked up from his book and began to watch her. It was almost time… Just as he suspected she was at the point of adding the drop of blood and the one-ounce of Doncerian Hippogriff Bile. Good, he would not have to wait long. He watched through his hair as she stirred the potion five times, and then sat back to watch it. He smirked. If there had been anything about the girl that he learned while she was in his tutelage for the past seven years, was the fact that the girl was easily startled. He timed it perfectly, three and one fourth minutes before he barked it out, just before she added in the mandrake root. "MISS GRANGER!"

She jumped, dropping the measurement to the floor, turning to him in both anger and confusion, seeing as she had her brows pursed together but her lips set into a thin hard line. Odd how the girl had the ability to show multiple emotions on her face…

_Bloody hell._ There was something wrong with him. Just because he had protected her before, just because she was now his apprentice, did not mean that he needed to _study _the blasted chit. At least the girl couldn't yell at him. Yet. He was almost positive she would someday, as he remembered the multiple times that she blew up at her friends. He would never let anyone know how much _those _scenes amused him. Seeing Potter recoil at her every word…

He picked up his book again and pretended to continue reading as he spoke to her. He hadn't spoken harshly; he simply wasn't in the mood for it. He looked down at his broken arm, seeing the potion-created cast that he had placed on it the night before, wincing. No, definitely not in the mood to be harsh… "Miss Granger, I believe you have just ruined your potion. I would suggest cleaning it up in five minutes, no sooner. I desire two-feet of parchment on the results of not adding in Mandrake Root when it is needed, due tomorrow morning after breakfast, when you start your potion again." As soon as his speech was over, he looked up at her, quirked his brow to see if she would protest somehow, and then continued to read, this time for real.

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A/N- Chapter sixteen should be out shortly, it has already been sent to my beta. As always, I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter and please review. It never fails to inspire.


	16. Depression

A/N- Sorry for the delay, I will try and get the next chapter out more quickly. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer- Alas, these characters have not come of their own free will. They have become my puppets, and as puppets they shall remain until these words play to their end.

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_**Chapter 16- Depression**_

She stared at him blankly for a moment. _There was something wrong with him. _She had observed him now for over seven years, and never before had she ever seen him _NOT _react to a failed potion. What was wrong? He had seemed rather… Well he had seemed rather civil. The word civil and the word Snape usually did not go hand in hand, especially regarding a Gryffindor 'know-it-all'. As she stared at him, she noticed that he was holding his arm strangely, so she dared to study it for a while longer. From what she could tell, he had put a magical cast upon it. Why would he have done that? Had he hurt himself somehow? "Do you mind casting your infernal gaze elsewhere? I am in no mood to be ogled at," he snarled.

She quickly turned away from him. Damn his odd way of knowing what was going on within a room without ever really watching. It was simply disconcerting, the way he spoke without adding any venom to his words this day. Why was he being so complacent? She sighed and waited, watching as the potion started to turn a strange muddy brown color. The moment the five minutes were up, she cleaned up her mess, and quickly left the room, leaving Snape alone. Alone, just as he should be, the annoying old bat. She pushed him from her mind, wondering why he seemed to occupy her thoughts more and more as each day passed. She growled at herself silently. How was she to push him from her mind when she wondered at her own thoughts of him, therefore thinking of him indirectly? It simply wouldn't do.

She stopped in the hallway suddenly. There was someone coming from around the corner. She didn't know _how _she knew this, but she knew it nonetheless. She stood frozen in place, both from fright and with morbid curiosity to know if her instinct had been correct. Just a few seconds later she noticed Minerva strolling around the corner and waving at her. She waved back, two feelings fighting inside her; the foremost being relief that the person had been someone that she knew well, and the second being the uneasiness that she had known that she would be coming around the corner. How could she have known? Just… _how_?

Minerva hastily made her way over to Hermione, a large smile gracing her face. "Ah, Hermione, just the person that I wanted to see. How is Professor Snape treating you lately? He hasn't been an overall grouch has he?"

Hermione went to answer, but then shut her mouth promptly. _Oh dear._ Her eyes went wide with the realization that she wouldn't have the ability to say anything, anything at all. _Argh. _Well, it would have seemed that Snape's plan for her not to say anything to her old mentor worked after all. Oh well. She offered a small smile.

The woman pursed her brows together. "What is it? Is there something wrong?"

Hermione nodded quickly and mouthed slowly 'I cannot speak' so that she could read her lips.

The older woman twittered for a moment. "To think that he would be so upset over a few harmless words, honestly. Don't you worry dear, I am sure he will release you soon enough." She winked at her, a faint smile threatening to break out and turn into a full-blown grin twitching at the edges of her lips as she turned from her.

Hermione pursed her brows together as the woman started to walk away. There was something wrong with McGonnegal. She watched as she turned the corner that she had come and heard the woman start to hum. Yes, there was something _seriously _wrong with the Deputy Headmistress. She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of her own confusion, and finished going to her quarters.

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A full week passed by. Each day something went wrong with the potion and each day he would assign her two feet of parchment on what had gone wrong as well as what happened to the potion afterwards. He had been distant and resigned the entire week; he had not yelled at her, he had not spoken to her except for beginning of her day, when he would say something around the lines of 'Begin, you have until dinner' and then again to tell her to leave with her new daily assignment. Other than that, he had not spoken to her, even though she sat next to him at the table, even though she lived not but a few doors down the hall from his own, even though she would pass by him within his personal library, even though she wanted desperately for him to speak to her.

It wasn't as if she really WANTED to talk to the man, it was more in the lines of just wanting to listen to _someone_. And the only someone that she was ever near most of the time, happened to be her Master. With the constant studying and potion attempts, she entirely lacked a personal life, not that she ever really had one to begin with, but she at least had Harry and Ron to speak with on what little down time that she had. Now… Now she was alone, she couldn't speak, Minerva hadn't spoken to her ever since that odd meeting in the corridor a week earlier, and she just couldn't bring herself to bother Harry nor was she about to message Ron. Not after his proposal, not after that unexpected interruption in their friendship. How would he forgive her? She simply… She simply did not like him like that anyway. In fact, she did not like _anyone _like that. Perhaps Trelawny had been correct when she had called her an 'old maid' or what had been the equivalent of it. She had never really paid attention to the exact words, she just remembered that it hurt. Perhaps she wouldn't ever find anyone. Perhaps she would end up living in some house in the middle of nowhere with twenty cats, and magical artifacts of convenience where most of her house had been turned into a library and laboratory.

She sighed. Maybe she had been wrong? Maybe she should have accepted the proposal… Maybe she would never find anyone that she could have the ability to 'fall' for. She forced her thoughts away from the strange emptiness in her heart, and focused on what she had been trying to focus on before she became sidetracked. Snape. Master Severus Snape, resident Professor of Potions at Hogwarts. She wanted him to talk to her. Not only because of the hole inside of her heart, but because she was secretly worried for him. There was something wrong with him. She had never seen him so… So depressed before, or rather, so blankly depressed. Sometime during the past week he had stopped bringing the book to class, and just stared at the desk in front of him instead. Silently, unmoving, his breath became unnervingly shallow and his eyes seemed to glaze over as if he were either in deep thought, or in the absence of all thought. She hoped it was the former. She wanted him to speak to her. To yell at her, berate her, or perhaps even lift the bloody curse off of her throat; it was bloody annoying. At least then she would know that he was himself and she could stop worrying. Not that she should, in fact she shouldn't care at all how he was.

If he were to die, then at least she could find herself a new Master without a strike against her own record. She had learned a few things from those books, once she read them thoroughly, that once a person quit, they were never allowed to take another apprenticeship within the same profession, nor were they ever accepted within many institutes afterwards, but if the Master died, then they are given good credit, and if they were to apply again, they would most likely be accepted by anything they applied for, whether it be a new apprenticeship or academia at university. But she couldn't help it. For some reason, deep inside of her, in spite of everything he had done to her within the past month or so, she couldn't wish him that much harm. She thought of vengeance within her mind, but it was never seriously. She wouldn't be able to harm him, nor would she ever wish him harm.

She couldn't put her finger on what she really thought of him. There were times that she outright hated him, but there were times that she admired him, worried for him, and even once both liked and was thankful for his company. But that had been a year and a half ago, just after both Harry and Snape had grudgingly agreed to put aside their mutual dislike in order to work together. She was never told what it was that they had worked on, nor did she ever really figure that she would ever be told. Harry had simply stated that Snape had secrets, that what they were working on happened to be one of them and he was not about to lose his trust considering that the work they were doing could very well prove to defeat Voldemort. She never really pressed the matter. Especially after…

She choked back a sob. It had been over a year, and she still couldn't think of it without nearly going into hysterics. Damn him, damn Voldemort. How could he, they had nothing to do with anything, why not her? It was her that was working against him, not them, so why? It should have been her. She did not deserve life after that. Not when it was meant for her to begin with. They all had tried to convince her otherwise, but she had known better. They had gone to kill her during Christmas break, knowing her usual routine. Had she gone, it would have been her, not them. It should never have been them…

Suddenly, she didn't feel like talking anymore. She didn't feel like even breathing, let alone studying. A small thought feathered its way into her mind. Snape. How could he live like this? There were times that she had overheard him saying the things that now went through her own head at unexpected intervals, she had seen him falter, seen the deep pain within his eyes when he allowed his walls to fall. But that had been over a year ago. Maybe he no longer thought that way… But… But then why would he suddenly seem to be… _gone_?

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Two weeks. It had been two weeks. He finally decided to heal his arm simply because it had become annoying. Two weeks. Two weeks of watching his apprentice fail at her potion, through no fault of her own. No, she was too perfect to make them badly herself; he had to help them along. Unfortunately, it had required the 'outside' element that he hated so much. Alcohol. It was the only way that he would be able to make her fail without using the 'alternative yet effective' methods his own Master had used to make him fail in the same manner. _Alternative yet effective…for scars only prove to show what you have worked for._

Instinctively his hand went to his right arm where _other _scars of his youthful 'mistakes' were. He gingerly lifted up his sleeve, taking note of the miscellaneous scars riddled there, wondering how many of them had been from home, how many had been from his apprenticeship, how many had been from his willing servitude of 'The Master', and how many had come from him being a spy.

There it was again, that feeling. That horribly atrocious feeling that had been plaguing him for two weeks. It was indescribable, but if a word had to be put to it, it would have been 'numb'. It was purely and simply numb. So many emotions, so many memories that invaded his mind, he couldn't control them. He no longer had a reason to hide it, so he didn't have to force his attitude on people when he didn't feel like doing so. And for the past two weeks, he hadn't felt like yelling, or speaking, or eating, or breathing. But Albus had insisted on the last two, and the requirements of his 'Masterly duty' required _some _sort of mumbled instructions to his apprentice, as unfortunate as that might have been.

He was numb, but there was so much more to it than that. He was in pain, pain from deep within him. It was this pain, mixed with regret, mixed with the horrors that he himself had done willingly when he was younger, mixed with the knowledge that no one ever loved him, that he himself had never loved, mixed with years of hatred of both himself and of others, mixed with memories of his early childhood, mixed with his secrets and finally mixed with the firm belief that he should in all basic logic, be dead. All these created the numbness, the depression that plagued him ever since just before he had turned himself into Albus. He had just expected to be killed, but he was offered an 'opportunity'. He had been promised that after it was done, his life would have meaning, that he would have paid off any atrocities he had committed and live a right happy life after this was done.

Some promises could not be kept, and that had been one of them. But at least he had gained a friend. A friend… He desperately wanted more, so much more, but he couldn't decipher as to what he really wanted, no… _needed _to help ease the pain away. Though, in the back of his mind, he knew there had to be _something_ to help, _something_ to live for, _something_… Or perhaps _someone_?

He growled at his thoughts. Why in the bloody hell was he moping around? He had dealt with the feeling for so many years before, why in the bloody name of _MERLIN _would he let it get to him now, of all times? He had an apprentice to teach, who had a desperate need to learn, and he was almost doing NOTHING to help her along. What was wrong with him? If he had the need to be depressed, it would have to wait until _after _she was done. He was not about to let her off the hook by killing himself off so early in their game. No, the game had just begun; they still had over three years left to go. An idea came to him as he looked at the rum. Perhaps… Perhaps if he let _her _defenses go down, then perhaps _he _wouldn't have to drink it. He smirked, calculating the next move within his own demented game. He was back.

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A/N- Hope you like the chapter, as always please review, I love to get them.


	17. Constance Monroe

A/N- I am so… SO sorry for the extremely long wait for this next chapter. Due to lack of any other reason than chalking it up to severe writers block, I will blame it on school. College is evil. Pure and simply evil, lol. Anyway, I hope that you like this chapter, a little bit morbid at the end, but it starts to answer some questions for you.

Disclaimer- I claim nothing but Snape-Grabs him.- (Snape folds his arms. "Honestly woman, will you come off it? I am not real.")

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Chapter 17- Constance Monroe 

The next day Hermione went back to the lab, thoroughly disturbed as to why her Master had not shown up for breakfast that day. She hurried through her own breakfast and then run to the dungeons in worry. Why hadn't he shown up? He had become impressively worse since she started to worry about him a full week ago. It simply wasn't like him not to show up for breakfast…

She entered the room swiftly, the door charmed so that all she had to do was think the password for it to open. She smiled at the sweet sounding words, wondering what they meant. _A domicilia nemuritor în eternitate… _From the way the words were spelled, she believed them to be Romanian, just like the book he had given her to study for the assignment. Perhaps she would look it up when she had access to the dictionary again. But first of all, where was Snape? He wasn't in the lab either… Wait…

On the table where she had been 'failing' her experiments, as she was entirely convinced that she wasn't at fault for the failures, was a note. She quickly opened it and read the short, spiky script of her Master.

_Miss Granger,_

_I have something new planned for you. Meet me in my library._

_-S.S._

She pursed her brows together briefly. That was odd… What could he possibly have planned for her? As of yet she had not finished the potion, even though she should have by now, not to mention he hadn't spoken to her in the past few days. Confusion and curiosity suddenly replaced her worry as she rushed over to the library. The moment that the door opened, she was greeted with the sight of an annoyed looking Snape, who was standing near the door with his accustomed scowl on his face and arms crossed. "It is about time, Miss Granger, we have things to do."

She immediately broke out in a smile at his words, causing him to raise his brow at her. "If there is a reason for smiling, I have missed it. So, if you wouldn't mind telling me, what is it you find so amusing?" He couldn't be serious could he?

She opened and closed her mouth a moment, trying to figure how to answer when his eyes suddenly went wide. He quickly turned from her. A surprised sounding _Oh… _suddenly echoed inside her head. Did he just say that?

"Get over here Miss Granger." She quickly walked over to him, and he turned around, wand out. "Finite incantatum. There, you may speak again. Talking will be required for this next assignment."

"Next assignment?"

He smirked at her as he took care of his wand. "My, it has not even been a full minute since I gave you your voice back, and already you ask questions." He suddenly grabbed hold of her shoulders and pressed her to him, causing her to squeak. Before she could try to push him away from her, he bent down and whispered, "You will find out when we get there," and the two of them apparated before she could respond.

He had debated the decision the entire night. He didn't want to do it. It would be easier this way, but it did not mean that he wanted to take her here. He was planning on next summer, once she was more used to him. But… But it was only a matter of time before the side effects would kick in, and who knew exactly how strong they would be? And now that she had her voice back, it would not take her long to decipher her way through the frame and release the trapped person inside. A person he loathed to see, yet he could not bring himself to banish the portrait entirely. That was the only reason it still hung in his library.

The moment they finished apparating, he pushed the girl away from him as if she were diseased. He did NOT want to do this. Unfortunately, it was needed. She needed to know. Minerva was right, she had the right to know what she was in for, and the right to know who his Master was. But he refused to tell her. But he knew who could tell her, who could inform her of just enough of what the girl needed to know. The woman lived here, in these forbidden walls…

He stood facing away from the building that he had brought her to, refusing to acknowledge it, even though he was merely a few feet away. He hated this place. McCarthy Mansion, the place he spent most of his childhood, outside of Hogwarts. "Miss Granger, your assignment is to learn the art of silence. Within this mansion is the person who will teach you this. I will be back in a week to retrieve you. While here, make use of the labs. I desire the potion I have taught you these past few weeks to be completed. Do not worry about the hair of the recipient, I will take care of that later, and use your own blood. Have fun." He apparated back to Hogwarts and sighed.

He should have at least brought her to the door and introduced her, but he couldn't face the woman who lived there. He had used her in his many manipulations when he was younger, toyed with her and in the end tossed her aside. He had lied to himself earlier. Someone loved him once, had loved him so much that she had helped him do what he needed to in order to become a Potions Master. But he never spoke to her again. He fully joined the Deatheaters and made his point known, that he never even liked her to begin with. He had purposefully watched her crumble, watched as part of her died, and he had laughed. He had laughed at her…

No, he could never return, not after that. Even though he regretted it, even if he apologized, even though he had tried to make amends for the things he did. It was too late for him. There would never be forgiveness from her. Never. At least Hermione would learn what his Master had been like, that even as horrid as he was to her, he was nothing like his own Master. She would learn why Diggory McCarthy's only daughter would even think about, let alone agree to, helping someone kill her own father, even if she was only being used for that purpose.

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Hermione stood in front of the mansion for a long moment, a sense of dread filling her. It was dark, rundown, and had all but 'DO NOT ENTER' written on the door. She took a deep breath, and knocked. Almost immediately, the oversized doors were thrown back, exposing an elaborately dressed house elf. The creature's eyes narrowed at her. "Who are you? Wretch doesn't let anyone visit the Mistress. The Mistress demands never to be bothered." The little elf's hands suddenly crossed over its chest and scowled at her.

She had to suppress a laugh. She suddenly felt as if this were Snape's childhood home. The creature had the same mannerisms that he did. "My name is Hermione Granger. Master Snape literally dropped me on the doorstep here, with just the instructions that I am supposed to 'learn the art of silence.' I apologize if he gave no warning."

"Snape?" The elf squinted its eyes as Hermione nodded. "Wretch wants Miss Hermione to follow to the Mistress then." It then turned around and walked quickly inside.

Hermione followed it, quickly getting lost in the large maze of corridors, rooms and hallways. After what seemed like an hour, the elf stopped. "Is this it?"

The elf turned to her and hissed, "Stay," and popped out of the room.

She sighed and sat down on one of the large sofas that decorated the large room. The creature that led her here was odd… and extremely Snape-like. She idly wondered if the woman would have the same sort of attitude as… What was it the creature called itself? Wretch? No wonder the thing was sour. Perhaps she was related to Kreacher…

The door across from her suddenly opened, and a woman appeared. She was, simply put, exquisite. Hermione's eyes widened, the woman was perfect, she had deep red hair, a narrow face, tall, and… She felt a sudden rush of envy as she stared at the woman. It was no fair… Why couldn't _she _have hair like that?

"Sorry for that, Wretch isn't used to company." The woman waved her hand and an ottoman moved in front of Hermione, and the woman sat down on it. "Oh… You're staring at me, I hope you notice. Ignore the envy, it is a natural reaction to me, and believe it or not, most men feel envy as well."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot. "Oh… Sorry."

The woman waived her hand in dismissal. "It's fine. So, what brings you here?"

"I'm sorry, my name is Hermione Granger. I am Master Snape's apprentice, and he said-"

"Snape's apprentice? You must be joking, he would never take an… Oh dear. Never mind… You don't seem the type for it though…"

"What? Type for what? What are you talking about?"

"My turn to apologize, I suppose. I am getting ahead of myself. What did he send you for? I thought I would never hear from him again. Well, I suppose I am not, but, in a way I am."

Hermione watched the woman blankly as she continued to talk to herself, reasoning the logic of it out. Her envy quickly faded as the talking went on. "Um, if you wouldn't mind, who exactly are you?"

The woman's attention returned to her. "He didn't tell you then?" When there was no response, she whispered, "That would figure." She smiled, holding out her hand. "Then let me introduce myself. My name is Constance. Constance Monroe."

"Pleasure. Snape said that he sent me here to learn the art of silence. Whatever that means."

Constance's face suddenly fell, and looked as if she saw something far away, whispering, "Let me teach you the art of silence, and life will cease to be. For without life there is no pain, and without pain there is no memory…" She suddenly came back, and looked to Hermione. "It is a speech my Father would give his apprentices- every one of them. He hated noise, preferred absolute stillness. He once killed one of his apprentices for simply crying out when my Father was piercing a knife into his hand. Lets just say it wasn't a pretty sight when he was finished." She looked away. "The ministry never cares what happens during an apprenticeship. They look the other way, no matter how bad it is. I am guessing that, as he didn't say who I was, he never mentioned who my Father was either."

Hermione shook her head. "No, he didn't."

"I thought as much. Follow me." Constance stood and went out the door she came in, stopping long enough only to make sure that Hermione was following her. "Severus must have faith in you, to take you on. He once told me he would never take an apprentice, unless he was absolutely sure they could handle it. He only planned to have one." She stopped suddenly, almost making Hermione run into her. "He believes that I loathe him for what he did to me. If he knew the truth of it, he would never have sent you here, that I am sure. I know him better than anyone; even Albus Dumbledore himself does not know the way his mind works. But I watched him…" She turned again, "Watched him most of my life. He was an obsession with me, he was different, and he came here long before he… Ah... here we are. Walk through this door."

Hesitantly, she opened the door before her, and gasped at the sight before her eyes. This woman was crazy. It was Snape… everywhere. Photos, paintings, articles. Everywhere. "What in the…"

There was a whisper in her ear. "I have collected these for years. My Father was oppressive, and he… Snape that is… He was different. After he left, I had to know everything that went on with his life, that he would be all right. I am glad to know his miraculous streak of life continues on. A spy for the Order, very dangerous work. Not to mention he should have died during the war. Not to mention many times before all that. He never knew about this room, if he did, I am sure, as I said before, that he would never have let you come here. I cannot let him have his way, I know him, and I cannot let him…" She suddenly grabbed Hermione by the shoulders. "Drop me."

Hermione, in her fear and confusion, was suddenly falling through the floor in the arms of the woman Snape had left her with. They stopped falling, and they were in a darkened room. "What are you going to do to me?"

Constance laughed. "You honestly think that I… No, don't answer that. I'm sorry. I do not mean to scare you. I simply need to tell you a few things about Snape that I am sure he does not want me to tell you. He probably sent you here to learn about his tutelage in very minute detail, along with 'a nice lesson in silence to reduce the headaches' as he would probably say. I hate to burst his bubble, though I will teach you these things, but I have a secret or two to tell you of his. And I will let you know more about his Master than he believes I would tell you. I hope you aren't awfully squeamish, are you?"

"I guess not. Why do you ask?"

"I ask because my Father was a sick man, and had to keep a visual record of the things he did."

When Constance clapped, the lights flicked on, and Hermione suddenly felt bile rise in her throat. Merlin! "Oh gods…" Tears blurred her vision. "No more… please… Oh gods…" It suddenly went dark.

"You see then. Snape mostly grew up here, and I hear that he had it worse before this. His mother… My Father even called her a monster. That one… That story is not mine to tell. But here, concerning Diggory McCarthy, I can tell you everything. Even that which was before Snape. I saw everything, at least Snape didn't know anything until he was talked into the apprenticeship, but I saw things… Horrible things, things no one should see, let alone know of."

Hermione sobbed. All she could see in her mind was images of death, of blood, of mutilated people beyond recognition, of vile acts and the one that stood out most in her mind was that of Snape himself, violently shaking in the moving photograph, but showing nothing else, not even pain as he worked on a potion, long blades pierced through his skin on one side of his back until they came out the other side, so many of them, he looked like he was sweating red. "Oh gods…"

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A/N- Well, there it is, the long, very, very long awaited chapter 17. I hoped you liked it, and as always, please review, as I love to get them. I am about halfway through chapter 18, so it should be up within the next week or so.


	18. A Visit From Harry

A/N- I apologize, this is getting up a week or so later than I had planned. Thank you all for your reviews, it does keep me motivated and I am already started on chapter 19 so, hopefully, it will be up within the next week. I would also like to thank my beta excessivleyperky for I am a sad, sad fool when it comes to technical grammar.

Disclaimer: -A large crystal appears out of nowhere and starts to reflect light across the small room. In an array of colors words appear in the reflections. They state 'Property of J.K. Rowling.'

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Chapter 18- A Visit From Harry

A quick hard knock suddenly sounded at the door, forcing him to turn off his secretly transfigured television and place a concealing charm on it in a rush. Irritated, he went to his door, slammed it open, grimaced at the intruder, then asked, "What is it you want, _Minerva_? You couldn't possibly be here to speak of Miss Granger, now would you?" He leaned against the doorjamb, hoping to send her the hint her visit was unwanted.

"Ah, but I am, Severus. I have not seen her in three days. What precisely have you done with her, if you don't mind me asking?" She peered over her glasses at him, oddly reminding him of Albus.

"I do mind, and don't give me that look, I haven't murdered her." He paused, raised his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and added, "At least not permanently. Yet." He gave another quick look at her and instantly regretted it. "Why, in the name of Merlin, are you smiling at me?"

"Whatever are you trying to accuse me of, my dearest Potions Master? That I would be reveling in the murder of my favorite student? Tsk-Tsk. That you would think such a thing boggles my mind."

He narrowed his eyes, and asked in a dangerously low voice, "What are you up to?"

She shot him her most innocent look. _Gryffindors_- as subtle as a lion pretending not gnaw on your leg after the creature just ripped the appendage off. "Why ever would I be up to something?"

He raised his brow. "If I find out you are meddling in my life again, Minerva, and I swear-"

"Oh, I'm not doing a thing. What I am here for is to remind you that the beginning of term starts, at least for us, in three weeks. That means that your lessons, at your more… _extravagant_ lessons," he winced at those words, "must wait until next summer. I would find something less complex for her to do during that time."

"I know perfectly well what is required of me, or have you forgotten that I have been teaching here for nearly two decades?"

"No need to be testy, just passing on a message." She turned away from the door as if to leave, but then paused. "If you will not tell me where she is, might I ask when she will return?"

He pulled back his lips into an annoyed sneer and grabbed hold of the door. "Rest assured she will return by beginning of term, if not before. Good day." He quickly slammed the door shut before she could reply. Nosy old bat, butting into his business like that. What was she after, anyway? The woman had something up her sleeve, and this visit just proved it. The damnable woman was giving him a headache. Besides, he would never let her know that he had conceded her point- she would never let him live it down.

Resigned to the fact he was in need of pain relief, he went to his cabinet and fetched some. Just as he was setting the bottle down after drinking most of it, an idea formed inside his head. He smiled in spite of himself. He quickly turned on his heel, picked up his wand and headed to one Hermione Granger's room- resident annoyance and unfortunately Potion's apprentice, due to a particular lapse of judgment on his own part. He had a lot of work to do in four days, and he wasn't sure whether she would kill him, or hug him for it.

"Grab those on the table and I will show you the next step in our arrangement." Constance pointed to the stack of books on the nearby table.

"You want me to grab all of them?"

"Only three or four. It makes no difference, really."

No difference? But… But it always made a difference! They were books… "I will take the three largest then."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself, 'Mione." Agh, that blasted nickname. Why did everyone always seem to think it was all that good anyway? "Though I am sure that you are misreading what I want you to do."

Hermione gave a quick turn to Constance. What now? It had been three days since that horrible discovery about Snape's past, but there hadn't been any other clues. Then again, she wasn't sure if she was ready to know any more had she been told. Constance had given her that time to explore the large building, and finish the potion that Snape had given her to do. When Hermione finished it on the first try, she knew, _just knew_, that he had something to do with the other failures; not that she hadn't already come up with that suspicion, but still… "If not for reading, then what for?"

A slowly delivered, thin smirk spread across the woman's face. "Why, for balance, of course." Oh no…

Maybe it would have been better to ask about the past after all… "You don't mean…"

"Oh, I do, I do. It is the very first step in learning silence. Now that you have that potion done for our beloved Potions Master, you will be devoting your time mostly to this."

She wasn't so engrossed that she missed Constance's slip of word. "Mostly?"

Constance shrugged. "Well, he did send you here for… other reasons as well. I think I can tell you more of his past without you being too mentally scarred. Just be happy that he changed sides as he did, and backed off of the alcohol. He's not always been the… kindest of men." She paused, looking away from Hermione. "That, is not my story to tell you either, but I will let you know enough to give you the main idea." She headed for the door. "Follow me."

A few minutes later, Hermione stood in front of a small, easily unnoticed door. Constance turned to her, a hint of a smile on her face, though it was hard to tell. "Well, this is the room we will use for balance. It is a must before the bellowing room, and you will see why when we get there. In the meantime…" Constance turned back to the door, and opened it, brushing her hand in front of her. "After you."

Hermione's brows furrowed momentarily. That mannerism was one that her Master had used before with her. "Ok." She stepped forward and gasped at the small room before her. Plain, but… Odd. The floor was uneven; so uneven one could mistake it for a breeding ground for moles. Before she could grind out the question, she felt a heavy weight plopped down on her head.

"Once you walk the entirety of the room with these upon your head, we will continue. In the meantime, I think I shall take my leave. Do have fun, young Hermione." Constance turned, and was gone.

Hermione gave a soft, resigned sigh, taking a step. The books stayed upon her head, so she ventured another, tottered upon her feet, dropped the books and fell right on top of them. "Oh for Pete sake…" This was going to be a very long day.

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There was something missing. Something missing, and as hard as he was trying to figure it out, he simply couldn't come up with the correct answer. It was driving him nearly insane- that is if he wasn't there already. Not that he _should _know what should be in Granger's rooms, but he couldn't let go of that annoying little feeling that something was just not… _right…_ He sighed, and tried again to push it from his mind.

He levitated yet another muggle painting into the rooms he had decided to give her. They were rooms that adjoined his, in fact, all he had to do was unlock the door to his study, and her rooms were actually part of his suite, but he was not all that comfortable with her. Hell, he didn't even know _why_ he was doing any of this in the first place. At least he had another two days to figure out a plausible reason for this bit of madness. Maybe because he got overly ambitious after his stupor, and decided that since he didn't have his apprentice to currently shove around and nag at, he might as well give himself something to do? Perhaps it would work, but it sounded too much like caring still. Care, hah, as if he would care how she lived.

He smiled. Actually, it would be more convenient for the both of them. The rooms had a lab instead of a sitting room, and a door that led to the library on the other side. He could keep her busy _and _out of his hair if need be during the school year.

Why had he sent her away for an _entire _week? Surely she could have gotten the hint by now… "Gods, I am going insane." He needed to get out. Perhaps a nice chat with Dumbledore, or perhaps Minerva would do him some good? She always got him irritated enough to stop sulking. His mind made up, he left the rooms and headed for Minerva's office, but passed his own in the process. He should stop there. Maybe there was something in there the girl might like? So, instead of his initial goal, he went to his office. "Bloody hell." Wrong choice.

"Ah, hello Snape, Professor Dumbledore said you would be here shortly."

He raised his brow. "I don't even want to know how he knew that, _I _didn't know that…" He crossed his arms, staring at the uninvited, unwanted and… utterly amusing man in front of him. "Might I ask, what, in the name of Merlin, did you do to yourself? Were you not happy enough looking halfway normal that you had to make yourself into a copy of the very person that has glued himself to you since the very day you met?" He had to literally bite his tongue to keep from breaking out in hysterics. This was better than the news he had previously received about Albus. Harry, the 'I can't die I'm too bloody dense to' Potter, now was sporting bright red hair, brown eyes, and a home knitted blue sweater with the letter 'P' etched on it. Had the boy done such a thing while he was still in school, the rest of the class would have died in shock from his reaction.

"Actually, this was Ginny's idea." He shrugged, and looked around. "So, is Hermione here? She hasn't written at all since all this."

"She is away, actually, and here I thought you'd come to visit me. I'm so disappointed to hear otherwise." He looked over Potter's shoulder. That wall hanging would be nice just above Granger's dresser… _Yes, perfect_.

"Just because I worked with you for a year, doesn't mean I would stop by and have a chat, just because. You still hate me, and I have learned not to really care."

He maneuvered around Harry. "Pity."

"Besides, I learned more about you than what most people do, and I still see you as an annoying bastard." He paused, "Besides, you haven't answered my question yet."

"She's not…" He frowned, and turned to Harry. "She isn't due back for a few days." He quickly cast a levitating spell on the wall hanging and stalked away from him. "If you wish to continue blabbering your opinions, feel free to follow." Damn it, the boy followed.

When they were back to Hermione's new rooms, Harry whistled. "Nice."

Snape turned his head from Harry and mumbled, "She doesn't know about them yet."

This time, Harry was the one to cross his arms with a malicious smile softly adorning his lips. "Fiddling around, are we? It looks as though you're nervous about something."

He straightened. "Pardon?" He slowly brought his gaze to the younger man's.

"You're nervous."

Snape set his jaw. "I am not nervous. Spend one year in my presence and you think you've unlocked everything. Get this straight. You haven't."

Harry laughed. Had the _nerve _to laugh at him. How _dare _he. "You _always _fiddle when you're nervous, and you're being nice to me. That only happens when you want something, or you're nervous, so it must be the later. Granted, it doesn't happen often, but its true."

"You insufferable little…" He groaned out the last of it and turned from the boy. Now was _not _the time for murder. No matter how much he would like to do it. Especially to the one standing right behind him. He looked around the room to distract himself, when that odd feeling something was missing returned. He turned sharply to him. "_You."_ He waited for Harry to look up at him. "You know her well enough to pinpoint the smaller details. What is missing?"

Harry's brows furrowed. "What?"

"There is _something _missing from these rooms, and I want to know what. What is it that Miss Granger had with her at most times that I remember, but does not now?"

"Oh, well that's simple. Crookshanks."

"Crookshanks?" He raised his brow.

"A large, annoying ugly orange cat. I believe it attacked you once."

He winced. Oh yes- now he remembered. "Yes, I think it did. What happened to it?"

"It died about one month before her parents did." He paused, and continued in an off-hand tone, "She never did replace him."

"I see…" He trailed off, minutely glancing at Harry. It was a wonder that they even got along enough to work together in the beginning, but somewhere around that sixth month, they had found an uneasy understanding of one another. It was annoying really. "Brown eyes do not fit you, Potter."

Harry's features briefly flashed shock before quickly dissolving into confusion. "I thought you couldn't stand my eyes?" There was no response. "Will you tell her that I came by? She's doing all right, isn't she?"

"Yes, to both counts. Is there anything else?" He looked up and cringed, noting where the boy's eyes lay.

"The riddle is darker than the last time I saw it." A statement, not a question.

"Yes, well your friend thought it wasn't dark enough to read."

"Do you mind if I…" Harry left the question hanging.

"Only if you reset it, and get it back to first riddle. Miss Granger killed herself to get to that point as it is." He meant it literally, though as Potter merely snorted, he had no idea how true the statement was. "When you are done, leave. I have other things to attend to than to pretend to be friends with you."

He laughed. "Pretend? And here I thought we were by now…" He quickly went to the other room at Snape's glare.

Snape left the rooms. He wasn't nervous. There was no reason to be nervous at all… He went to his desk and retrieved a piece of paper and started to write a note to Hagrid. Fiddling… Oh bloody hell, he _was _nervous.

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It had taken her precisely three hours to gain the ability to walk across the oddly uneven floor of the small room she had been taken to. Constance, without a single word, grabbed her by the arm and placed her back into her room. Then she locked the bloody door. She hit it again. What was going on now? Why had she gotten locked inside the room? She sighed and slid down the door. It had been nearly an hour since she had been locked in, and she still had no idea as to why.

Constance had seemed friendly the past few days, at least for the most part. There was a time or two that she received a scathing remark, or a look that would kill if it were truly possible. Then again, the woman seemed to have more moods than a menopausal psycho ward patient. There was something not adding up about Constance. If she loved Snape as much as she said, then why hadn't she hunted him down by now, and told him that she forgave him? It simply made no sense.

Hermione was about to pursue this thought pattern, when something holding up a small, unused bookcase caught her eye. She moved over to inspect it closer, and found that it was a small, leather book. Well, there was no time like the present to check out a book, so why not? She reached down and removed it from underneath the leg, carefully bracing the bookcase so that it would not fall, and went to the bed to check it out. OH the bed! She loved it, it was a queen size bed that was so soft and cushy, that when she laid on it, it threatened to eat her alive- but comfortably.

She opened the book- nothing was there. Nothing? That couldn't be, it _had _to have something somewhere… Wait. It couldn't be like the book that Harry had from Tom Riddle in third year could it? Possibly… She worried her bottom lip a moment before grabbing the old red ink bottle at the work desk in the corner. She grabbed a pen, and wrote '_Hello' _in the middle of the first page of the book, and held her breath.

She only wondered briefly about the brownish-red of the ink before something happened. What she wrote faded and reappeared. _Hello? Who is this?_ The words were scratched in an all too familiar scroll.

She quickly replied, '_Who are you?'_

_'If you don't mind, that happened to be my question to you.'_

She half laughed at the words. She _had _to be right about this. _'My name is Hermione Granger.'_

There was a pause before the words reappeared, looking as if he had pressed down too much on the pen while writing. '_GRANGER? Granger is not a wizard name; it is a muggle name. HOW, in the name of Merlin, did a damned MUDBLOOD get their hands on this?'_

She stared at it, her eyes wide. She had known that he joined the deatheaters, but… But she had never expected to see those words from him. Indirectly or not, it was his writing, and she felt tears fall from her face.

'_Bloody hell, stop that blubbering, you're going to wrinkle my pages.' _

She put it down, quickly wiping at her tears. Yes, it was _definitely_ him, she could practically hear him scolding her as she read the words, and they had 'Snape' written all over. She stared at the book after that, trying to figure out what to say in response to the previous insult, when she noticed that the words changed again.

'_So, you just stop talking just because I insulted you? Get over it. I desire to meet you.'_ Meet her? How could he possibly _meet _her? She leaned over the book, about ready to respond, when the blasted thing seemed to open up, and pull her inside.

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A/N- I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, even though I seemed to have left it at another hanging spot. I blame the Curse Of Authors; it makes us do these things. Anyway, please review, it never fails to inspire.


	19. Meeting a Figment

A/N- Sorry this took so long. Hope you like it though.

Disclaimer-As always, not mine.

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**Chapter 19- Meeting a Figment**

She felt dizzy. Where… What happened? She took a deep breath, lifted her head off the desk, and noticed that the book was missing. Missing? She looked around her frantically, a strange panic overwhelming her dizziness. What happened to the book? She stood up from the chair… Wait… Hadn't she been sitting on the bed? She quickly dismissed the confusion from her head, knowing there had to be a perfectly _reasonable _excuse for her mistake, and started to tear the blankets from the bed.

"Oh, blast it!" It wasn't there. She looked back to the bookcase and worried her lip. It was even, not the odd slant it had been when she removed the book from underneath it. Had she been dreaming? Well, there was only one way to find out. She slowly stalked up to the door, took another deep breath, and reached for the handle.

It turned. She was no longer locked in. Or, it was all her imagination, and it had never been locked to begin with. She sighed at the thought and left. As her mind was playing tricks on her, why not go fetch a glass of water? She turned back to the door and made sure it was secure before she whirled back around… Umm…

Uh-oh. Her eyes went wide as she whirled back to where she came from, only to find the door had vanished. _No… NO! _This wasn't happening, she must be dreaming, she had to be… Right? She pinched herself, and felt pain flow up her arm. _Or maybe not…_ She twirled about to see if she could see anything, in any direction. There was no such luck. There was nothing. Literally nothing. Just… Gray. Gray everywhere; gray concrete floor, gray sky, and no sign of any walls or extremities of _any _sort, anywhere. At all. _Shit._

She suddenly found it hard to breathe, her heart raced and suddenly felt claustrophobic, in spite of the fact that she was not enclosed in any sort of space that she could tell. She needed out of there. _Now_. She suddenly burst into a dead run in whatever direction she was facing. She ran at that pace until her legs burned so much she could have sworn that she could no longer feel them. In a bold attempt to make them normal, she slowed down only, to lose her footing in the effort. Gracelessly she fell forward and braced herself for the hard impact of the pavement, squeezing her eyes shut as she whimpered. It never came. She just… fell.

Hesitantly she opened her eyes, and quickly closed them. If her vision had served her right, she was currently falling off of a very high building. One that looked similar to Hogwarts, but more like it was situated on top of a huge mountain. She opened her eyes again, and confirmed that what she had seen was true, and the queasiness in her stomach was in fact due to falling rapidly in the air, as she could see the tall cliff wall whizzing past. When had she flipped over so that she was falling not face forward, but backwards?

She felt the desire to cry out, scream, flail or… do _something _other than just fall, but what could she really do? Cast a charm? "_Accio _Wand!" Nothing. She curled into a ball mid-air to search herself. Her wand… It was gone? So much for that thought. Suddenly the sound of falling started to turn into a roar and she closed her eyes. _Please let this be a dream…_ She held her breath and waited for the impact that didn't come. Instead, the sickening sensation in her stomach ebbed away, and she forced herself to open her eyes. Green… Green? Before she could question the sight any further, she fell heavily on something soft. She flailed at the impact and she fell off of whatever it was she had landed on. She pushed herself up from a very plush dark green floor to look at what she had landed on. It was a very fluffy green sofa lounger. Where was she?

She shifted into a full sitting position and looked around. Well, the place was definitely Slytherin in style. The ceiling, walls and floor were all in shades of green, and the trim was all in silver, embossed with snakes. What wasn't green or silver was black. The sight was sickening, really. She moved so that she could stand and tried to find a door, knocking at miscellaneous places on the walls. After about five minutes of fruitless efforts to escape, she flopped down on the sofa in the middle of the room. She sat; quietly thinking to herself, wondering what in the world was going on. This couldn't be a dream; it was all far too real. She stared at the wall in front of her, willing something, _anything _to make some sort of sense in this strange place. If this _was _Snape's diary, he was completely warped. Warped beyond all comprehension.

Well, she always wondered what went on in the man's head, so this was her own fault really. The longer she sat there, the more she was convinced that she was, indeed, inside the strange book she found. She had to be. She rubbed her eyes and then continued to look at the wall. Wait… There was a shadow there, it was barely noticeable, but it was there. She stood, and placed her hands at the edge of the shadow, doing her best to figure out what it was. A slight indentation, and… It was a door! She started prying at the thing, sending bits of paint to the floor. Suddenly a sound awfully familiar to the clearing of a throat sounded behind her, but she ignored it. A moment later, she heard it again, and she turned around, her jaw dropping at the sight in front of her. It was _him_, but he looked her age and his nose was straight. Still unorthodoxly large though.

"Amused as I am watching you," he leaned against the dark green lounger and crossed his arms, "I feel that I must inquire what, precisely, are you attempting to accomplish?"

Surprising herself she blurted out, "Holy cricket! It's you!" She winced at her own words. How very mature.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You know me? How?" He removed himself from the lounger and approached her. She backed away, but he followed, bringing his arms up and effectively pinning her to the almost-door behind her.

She stared at him a moment. There was absolutely no mistaking who the man was in front of her. His hair was still quasi-long and greasy; his voice, even at this age, had that dark, deep timbre to it, and not to mention… Did he _always _wear buttoned-to-your-throat shirts? "I…"

"I _said,_ how do you know me? When I ask a question, I want an answer. So explain, immediately," his voice lowered to a hiss as he leaned in towards her ear, "or else I will take measures that will not be so pleasant."

Harry had told her about Tom Riddle's diary once, and he stated quite clearly that he could not be seen, nor heard. This was no ordinary diary, or at least, not in the same league as the one Harry had found in their third year. She quickly licked her lips, highly uncomfortable with his close proximity. "Well sir, it is obvious to me, that in spite of the noticeable age difference, you are none other than Severus Snape." She took a deep breath, and was about to continue when he interrupted her.

"Think girl, I did not ask you _who _I was, I asked you _how _you knew. There is a difference in that statement."

Urgh, he was no different in his youth than he was now, irritating bastard. "I was simply… I was going to say…" Oh sure, _now_ words fail her…

The younger Snape's eye twitched, and leaned up on his arms. "You're rather annoying. Do you ever articulate, Hermione?" _How does he know her name? She hasn't mentioned it yet._

She felt her cheeks grow hot, and she didn't know if it was out of anger, embarrassment, or both. Angry, because he just called her annoying, especially when he was the one to force her into coming in the first place, or embarrassed because he had just used her given name. It sounded so… odd… coming from him. Very, very odd. She chose to ignore the odd feeling and speak instead. Surely _that _would clear her head. "Of coarse I can articulate, sir. It's just that I wasn't… I really don't know what I was expecting. This place is quite confusing, you know."

"I see." He narrowed his eyes and regarded her a moment. "Now that you defended yourself, would you mind terribly if you would answer my question?" While he was talking he had managed, somehow, to press himself even further into her.

To say the least, she was quite disconcerted, especially taking in the fact that their noses almost, yet not quite, touched. "Hermione?" His voice was breathless, almost in a whisper, and she felt herself begin to get uncomfortable, in a completely different way. She shivered as an errant thought came to mind. _At this age, even with his harsh features, he was striking._ Who knew? Wait… Snape. Oh! How could she ever even think such a thing? It was Snape! If he were to ever find out about this, he would kill her. He would fall over in shock, and then kill her in revenge, to hell with the mess it would leave behind. She quickly shoved him away and ducked under him, surprised that he let her move away so easily. She looked back at him, eyes wide as she tried to calm her nerves. He seemed like he was going to kiss he, how… thoroughly disturbing. She took a few deep breaths as he crossed his arms, eyes once again narrowed in regard. He almost looked amused, damn him. Egotistical bastard. Remembering her anger, she regained her nerves and crossed her own arms. "I know you because you taught me Potions for seven years, and am now currently your apprentice. You also despise me for being an 'annoying little know-it-all' as well as a few other reasons, and as for those, I am not willing to talk about it at the moment."

A smirk played on his lips. "So she can speak after all." He paused. "You're lying."

"About what?"

He crossed over to her and grabbed her by her wrist. Her eyes grew wide in realization that it was her left hand- the one she had cut on the frame. He brought his finger to the puffy scars where her skin had been shredded and slowly traced them. He did not lift his gaze from her wrist as he spoke. "How?"

"I cut myself, by accident. I was in the infirmary for nearly a week afterwards."

"Had a close brush with death, did you?" His voice was sour, and she jerked her hand away.

"Yes, not that you care. You have told me in no uncertain terms of this."

"I see." He looked away from her. "Do you know what I am, Hermione?"

She paused, and pursed her brows. "You are a diary, aren't you? Harry found Tom Riddle's diary once…" She trailed off as he turned to her, a curious look on his face.

"Harry?"

"Oh, you don't know?" His blank look confirmed the question. "Harry Potter, my best friend."

A sneer fell on Snape's lips. "I see. No doubt related to James Potter?"

She nodded. "He was his father, actually."

He looked away again. "I have heard of Riddle's diary. Literal memory captured inside a book. Created to steal the essence of life from another and eventually turn whole if something were to happen to the real Tom Riddle… Voldemort, whichever you want to call him." He slowly brought his eyes up to hers. "Rest assured, I am not a diary, nor am I really the man that you know. We have led separate lives since I was sixteen, and, if I am correct about your age, I have been alone in this book for longer than you have been alive. Your hatred for him need not extend to me."

"I don't hate you… Him… however."

He raised a brow. "Don't you?"

She regarded him for a moment, trying to figure it out herself exactly, before she responded. "There is a difference between irritation and hatred." When he did not respond, she changed the subject. "If you are not a diary, what are you then?"

"I am a figment, living in a charmed book. When you go back, you can look it up if you like." There was a defeated sound to his voice. "I think I will send you back now. I have much to think about." He looked back up to her. "I have not seen, spoken, nor written anyone in at least ten years. I…" He looked away again. "I just need time to adjust, this is all a bit disorienting to me. Will you keep me? Take me with you?"

"I will."

He looked her in the eye. "Promise me."

"I promise." She offered him a small smile, and found herself falling again, and the world around her swirling to the point she had to close her eyes for fear of being nauseous. Suddenly she fell into something soft and opened her eyes to find herself back in the room at the manor, in the large fluffy bed it all had started at. She looked down at the book in front of her and scrawled on it was '_Until our next meeting.'_ She involuntarily shuddered at that and closed the book. Even though he said he was not the same person, they both came from the same person. His personality and motives would still be the same as he was still Snape. She knew him well enough to know that he never did anything without some sort of reason. So, only one question formed in her mind. What was in it for him?


	20. True Colors of Constance

A/N- Sorry for the long wait again, I am horrible at keeping descent timeframes.

Disclaimer- (Severus Snape, and all the other characters from the HP Universe step forward, all wearing uniforms stating _–Property of J.K. Rowling-)_

**_Chapter 20- True Colors of Constance_**

He was pacing. Merlin, but the day was dragging. He paused, looked at the glowing numerals embedded in his wall and groaned. It had only been six minutes since the last time he looked. Damn it! When the bloody hell was he going to get a reply from that blasted giant anyway?

"Half-giant, Severus."

"Half-giant… Yes, that-" In realization he half-jumped, whirled on the silent intruder and glared at the strange man. "I don't even want to know how you knew what I was thinking, let alone how you snuck up on me like that."

"You're nervous, Severus. Your defenses go down when you're nervous."

He narrowed his eyes and swallowed the groan that threatened to surface from his throat. "Why is it everyone else seems to know more about my nervous habits than I do?" He made his voice as acidic as possible. Damnable old man, just because the war was over, did not mean his defenses went down when nervous.

Albus' eyes seemed to glow a moment before holding out his hand suspiciously. "Lemon drop?"

He felt the corner of his lip twitch upwards. _"No."_

The Headmaster shrugged and redeposited the offending candies into his inner robe pocket. "Very well, Severus, very well." A slight frown formed on the man's face. "Unfortunately, I have some news. Narcissa came by earlier this afternoon. She wanted me to give you something?"

Severus raised a brow. "Poison? A mini plush servant of death with a greeting card telling me that she loathes me and wishes me dead? I could hardly imagine she was going to offer me pleasantries since I'm the cause of her family now resting in the local mortuary."

Albus' tone took that of soothing, "Now Severus, you know that is-"

"True? Yes, I know, Headmaster. Perhaps you should inform me of something I am not currently privy to?"

"You should save your theatrics for someone who cannot see past them. I know that you have done your best to forget all your thoughts, as well as your feelings towards the Malfoys. Or, rather,"

Snape whispered, "A mere annoyance..."

Albus ignored it and simply continued on. "… _a_ certain Malfoy, ever since the final battle. Harry had to overcome certain surprises, as did you. It was not Narcissa's wish to bring you this, but Draco's."

His eyes darted back to Albus, a sudden urge to heave up the contents of his stomach overcoming him, as well as an unacknowledged panic. "**_DRACO?_** Was that boy so _daft _as to give me, _ME,_ something after that… _That ATROCITY _he committed during the battle? I will have absolutely _nothing _to-" He had been so furious with his ranting that he had not noticed the annoyed spasm of the older man's jaw during his tirade. Though, in retrospect, maybe he should have.

The Headmaster took a small step towards him, lightly raising his hand and bellowed, "**_SIT DOWN!"_**

Severus was suddenly launched across the room and fell, as gracefully as he could muster under the circumstances, into the large armchair next to his fireplace. Too surprised to say anything else, he managed a soft, "As you wish, Headmaster." It was so rare an occasion that Albus lost his temper that he dared not try to worsen the condition. Yes, he Severus Snape, hateful man of Hogwarts extraordinaire, was leery of the older man. He briefly raised his eyes to him and cringed. _Especially when he smiles like a child getting gifts for Christmas._

"Now then, as it seems you are quite finished with your unwarranted tirade," he gave Severus a pointed look, "I will take the liberty to continue. Considering the fact that the boy did it in your best interest, even though _you _might not agree with that sentiment, _he _obviously believed it."

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat and moved his eyes to the empty fireplace. "Obviously."

While the man was turned away, Albus gave him a sympathetic smile before reaching back into his robe pocket, taking out a small bundle and placing it on the table. It rapidly grew in size until it was about four by two feet in size, and rather flat. Severus turned and eyed it. _That couldn't be what I think it is… Could it?_ "That isn't…?" He couldn't bring himself to say the words. _So what is it?_

Albus didn't respond a moment, and started to head towards the door. "Would you like me to have Dobby bring you a small dish of flan? I know how you like it, Severus."

He clenched his jaw. "You already know my answer to that question, Headmaster." He didn't look away from the wrapped up package. Dumbledore's avoidance had confirmed his belief. _It was…_

Albus frowned at the sight of Severus' blank expression, sighing. "Goodnight, my boy. I…" He left the words hanging, as if he didn't know how to finish the sentiment, and when Severus didn't respond, he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Alone in the room, he stared at the package. So, this must have been a good laugh for the boy, to leave him something like _that_. Draco must have hated him more so than he had ever thought possible. No, he wouldn't open it, but he wouldn't destroy it either. So what to do with it then?

While he mused over the question, a small owl found it's way into the room and landed on said package. Broken from his thoughts, he irritably grabbed the note that was attached to the birds impatiently shaking leg and opened it.

_Professor S. Snape _(as dictated and corrected by Nyhtengail's Shop for Misplaced Animals)

_I'm sorry Professor Snape, sir, but it seems as though the latest litter just was born yesterday morning. Won't be able to buy one for at least three more weeks, if not a month. Are you sure that you want one of _these _fine creatures? A bit pricey if you ask me. Anyway, I shall see you about the arrangement on my return to Hogwarts later this week._

_--Rubeus Hagrid_

_P.S.- _Thank you for using Nyhtengail's Owlry, please stop by and shop at Nyhtengail's, the perfect place for all of your exotic animal needs.

Severus snorted at the note. It would figure that Hagrid would have the note dictated; he was never good at spelling much of anything. Not to mention the large man's handwriting was worse than ¾ of the first-year student body. He sighed, and leaned back in the chair. Miss Granger's new familiar would simply have to wait then. Besides, he was suddenly no longer in the mood for company.

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She started to stir, waking up on her own. Before she opened her eyes, she stretched, yawned and mumbled something around the lines of 'love this bed, utterly sinful.' Slowly she opened her eyes and… "Aiieee!"

She was staring at two overtly huge eyes. It was Wretch… Wait… why? Before she could voice anything from the slowly clearing fog that currently made up her brain, Wretch spoke. "It is about time, Miss Granger, Wretch has been waiting for Miss to be waking for some time now. Honestly, Wretch has better things to do than watch Miss sleep." The creature folded its arms to add to the point.

Hermione frowned. "If you were in such a hurry, then why didn't you wake me then?"

A smirk fell on the long thin lips of the creature. "The Mistress told Wretch not to wake young Hermione Granger. So Wretch did not."

She snorted, the creature reminded her of Snape, with its arms crossed and smirking like that. "You knew him didn't you?"

Wretch didn't ask whom. "Wretch waited on Master Severus for some time, Miss. No more chitchat though. The Mistress wants Wretch to bring Miss to her, so Wretch will comply." It promptly jumped off of the bed, snapped its fingers and Hermione suddenly found herself dressed. "Miss must come quickly. Hermione Granger will find it in her best interest if she follows the Mistress' orders." It narrowed its eyes. "Wretch also advises not to talk of the _book_ to the Mistress either. Wretch warns Miss that Mistress Monroe can be horrible, in fact, right evil if Mistress so chooses."

Hermione grudgingly got out of the bed and started to follow the elf, wondering about its elegant dress and the way it spoke of its caretaker. "I thought all of you tried to hurt yourselves as punishment for speaking improperly about wizards."

Wretch stopped and whipped around. "Wretch only takes care of Miss Monroe on orders from Wretch's Master. Wretch hates the Mistress, and will not speak kindly of her. When Miss Monroe finally decides to leave this world, Wretch will happily seek out her true Master. Until then, Wretch will be bound here."

My, but the creature was rather well spoken- for a house-elf at least. "But you are free, that dress…"

"Is none of Miss' concern. Now follow Wretch before the Mistress gets angry."

Confused, Hermione followed, new thoughts and questions entering her mind. Her Master had a House-elf? If it cared for Professor… Master Snape as much as it would seem, then why stay, if it were free, as the dress would indicate? She shook her head to clear her mind, with a note-to-self that she would worry about Wretch later.

Soon they were in a small unused looking sitting room that had at least an inch of dust on everything, cobwebs everywhere. "I haven't had need for this room since my Father died. I hadn't planned on ever using it again. Alas, I was wrong. It will be you to be the last," Constance said.

Hermione turned to her, and noticed a small smile on her face that seemed completely contradictory. Her eyes were hard-set, an almost painful look to them, as a crease formed between the woman's brows. She looked like she had eaten something rancid. Yet, her smile betrayed none of that emotion, and seemed to have a happiness to it that Hermione had never quite seen before. "What room would that be?"

"Why, the booming room of course." She offered a small chuckle before sweeping her arm behind her. I suppose this is the best way… I tried so _very _hard to find another way to teach you the art of silence, yet it seems this way will still prove the best…" She trailed off and narrowed her eyes at Hermione and the pained look faded into one of amusement. "Severus always called it the bellowing room, he rather hated it, you know. Follow me." She opened the rusted looking door in front of her and walked into the room.

Hermione followed. It was… very large. In fact, it was rather beautiful. Large purple velvet drapes hung on every wall, even the ceiling. In the center of the room were three large muggle-style fans dropped from the ceiling, each at a different speed. On each wall there were ten to twenty clocks, set at different times, a miniature train that went around the room and a large sculpted fountain towards the back of the room in the shape of a large cobra spewing water from its mouth as it reared on itself, cascading the illuminated water down its coiled body. She gasped at the beauty of the room as she noticed the intensity of it all. Small crystal chandeliers hung about the room suspended midair, sounding their beautiful tune as the air from the fans blew at them, the iridescent light highlighting everything in such a way it could only be described as breathtaking. "Its…beautiful…"

Constance's tone sounded dull, "Yes, I suppose it is."

Hermione turned to find the woman near the door. "Constance?" She suddenly felt as if something were off. Very off.

The woman retreated further towards the door, drawing Hermione nearer with every step. Before she could react, Constance had her wand in her hand and whispered something, what she could not tell, and felt herself fall to the floor as if a hundred little ropes and just wrapped around her body and tugged her there. "I would advise you not to move, Hermione."

"What's going on? Why are you doing this?" She suddenly felt panicked. This was not right. This was simply not right. The phrase repeated itself in her head in a chant. _Not right, not right…_

Constance gave a small, deep-throated chuckle as a small smirk formed on her lips. "You see, young Hermione, it seems that Severus has taken you on as his apprentice. I think… I think I might not come back for you. Just so you know… this room made someone go so entirely crazy that they killed themselves within two days time, and you're not due back until after that." She backed further towards the door. "This room may seem beautiful to you now, but I assure you that you will grow to hate it just as much as your dear Master does, or perhaps even more." She backed up even further until she was even with the door. "The moment the door closes, the spell will kick in, and your bonds will free in three minutes from…" she paused a moment, a finger in the air, "now."

_Oh gods… She was… But… _"I don't… I don't understand… You… You were…"

"Oh stop the bloody hysterics, they wont get you anywhere. I don't care. I never really cared much for people; I simply learned to play nice. But, in order for my plans to succeed, you must die. I am so entirely sorry, but it _is _for a good cause, really. You see- he will be safe again when you die. I cannot let him commit suicide through you… I simply cannot."

"But… How could you?" Anger was starting to replace the panic. Anger that signified a reluctant acceptance- she could not move. _There was no way out. There was no hope. _Somehow, those thoughts seemed forced to her. Since when did she give up so easily? She shouted, "HOW COULD YOU?"

Her face was devoid of all emotion except a small hint of sick amusement. "That answer is simple, Hermione. In the eye of the snake is a small camera, not that you will remember in a few minutes, but it is there. I have at least ten pictures that I have taken of my own works. Not _all _the pictures in that room were my Father's art, you know."

Hermione suddenly felt sick. "You're mad, completely mad."

Constance grabbed hold of the door. "Oh, and before I forget… Let me teach you the art of silence, and life will cease to be. For without life there is no pain, and without pain there is no memory but pain itself. Sound is full of pain, so be silent, and the pain will cease to be." And the door slammed, leaving Hermione alone in the booming room.


	21. Inside The Booming Room

A/N- I give thanks to my beta Excessivleyperky for her continued help with this story. I also want to thank everyone who has reviewed, for every new review I find, I jump for joy and write another paragraph. LOL. Sorry for the wait, it should not take so long for the next chapter.

Note- Now irrevocably AU due to HBP.

Disclaimer- Alas, not mine. :Sobs silently to herself:

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_**Chapter 21- Inside the Booming Room**_

It all happened too fast, at least in her mind. The moment the door closed, a magical wave seemed to pass over her like a breeze, and an eerie silence sheathed the room in its wake. Everything was silent. Everything in the room became motionless. The water from the fountain hung in the air like ice, the chimes in the air stilled, the many clocks stopped ticking, the fans came to a halt, and the train stopped where it was- its small trail of smoke unwavering. She felt oddly like she was in a picture. It was rather unnerving, and she felt primal fear ebb its way into her mind. Yet, in spite of her fear, in spite of her hopelessness, Hermione had a precious moment of silence to think. _It wasn't real. The fear, the hopelessness, the grim acceptance, and the desire to do nothing; none of it was real._

That fact seated itself deeply inside her mind, when a small whistle began. At first it was soft, barely audible at all. Then, slowly, gradually, it became louder. It was similar to that of a teakettle when it was done brewing, yet oddly, higher pitched. The sound continued to get louder, began to hurt her ears as it grew, and she struggled against her magically induced captivity. _It was so loud…_Thankfully she felt her bonds fade away and she put her hands to her ears to help deafen the noise. It still grew louder. The high-pitched whistle soon became deafening, its screeching going straight through0 her body with its vibrations. The atrocious sound lasted for minutes, how many she could not tell. _Make it stop, _She pressed her hands as tight as she possibly could to her head, whimpering out a "Please…"

As if the room was actually listening to her, the whistling suddenly stopped, making her ears hum from the sudden loss. She waited a moment, and waited to see if the sound would return. When it did not, she shakily dropped her hands from her ears, and breathed in a sigh of relief. She slowly stood up from her spot in the room, and noticed that everything was motionless. Not even the water had moved. Now that she was fully free, she could look at her surroundings a bit better. The room was astonishingly beautiful, even more so with the stillness it now held. Everything except for her looked like it had gone through some sort of time paralysis. Even the crystals from the chimes held their wind-blown pose as they hung suspended in the air. After taking a deep breath, she turned to look at the sculpture of the snake and drew near it. For a moment she stared at it before she remembered its significance. It was Constance's words before she left her there to die… _No, better not to think of it…_ She clenched her jaw and glared at the statue.

She could still hear the cold voice of the woman. _In the eye of the snake is a small camera, not that you will remember in a few minutes, but it is there. _"I won't let you have this. No matter what happens to me, I won't let you have this." Slowly she drew out her wand. She would not give that mad woman the satisfaction of seeing her suffer through whatever tortures this room held. The room _was _breathtaking, but from what she heard from Constance, it was maddening, and possibly fatal.

She pointed it at the snake's head, the incantation played on her tongue, her breath drawn to recite it and… **_VWUM! _**Before she could speak the incantation, the sudden deep, metallic sound reverberated through the room with such force she found herself sprawled on the ground and more than a few feet away from where her wand had landed. She groaned. She pushed herself off the ground, failing to notice the fact that the chimes were once again animated. Just as she took her first step towards her wand, she was once again catapulted to the floor. **_VWUM! _**The water from the fountain unfroze and started to fall again, and she realized that the things in the room started up again with every wave. She rolled onto her back, and waited for the next wave.

**_VWUM! _**The fans began to spiral almost immediately. _She was right._ She decided she would simply wait out whatever it was that was happening. **_VWUM!_** She felt the pressurized wave wash over her, and watched as every clock in the room began to tick. _Only one more… **VWUM!**_ She gave a slight whimper as the next wave passed and then gave a sigh of relief when she heard the train start to move on the track, briefly listening to the 'thump, thump, thump' as it passed over the cross rails, which oddly seemed to be placed in such an order that the 'thump, thump, thump' was never-ending. Just as the train would pass the last tire, it would start over again. Somehow, she couldn't shake the thought that it might be deliberate.

It had been a full minute since the last wave hit, so she climbed back up on her feet and dove at her wand. She laughed triumphantly as she held it in her hand and once again pointed it at the statue. "Don't think I am going to forget _that _easily." She gave a slight swish of her wand. "_Marm-" **VWUM! **_

She cried out as she hit the floor, already feeling as if she were entirely covered in bruises. Thankfully her wand was not far from her. Was there something else in the room she hadn't thought about that needed reanimation? She could have sworn she had spotted everything… She sighed and got on her knees. _**VWUM!** What the… Wait…_ Out of sheer luck she landed on her wand. She moved so that she could grab it at ease, and waited. Something told her that her ordeal was not yet over. **_VWUM!_**

She was right. She rolled on her back again, intent on waiting it out again. **_VWUM!_** Except… What was the wave doing now? It had a purpose before… But… There was nothing else to reanimate in the room. _**VWUM! **What was going on?_ Her mind was getting more and more clouded with emotions that were not her own. There was only one there that she could identify as her own. Panic. It wasn't the best of emotions, but darn it, in this situation, she very well had the right to be panicked. **_VWUM!_** She growled in frustration when her brain couldn't answer the question of why the waves were now coming. They made no sense… Even in a psychotic place as this, everything had _some _point to them, no matter how strange it might be. **_VWUM!_**

Blast it, but that wave was starting to make her feel nauseous. **_VWUM!_** Well, that was sooner than expected… **_VWUM!_** Was it just her, or was everything starting to get louder? **_VWUM!_** Not to mention faster…**_ VWUM!_** Yes, it was definitely getting **_VWUM! _**louder, she could now hear the **_VWUM! _**ticking of the clocks clearly. **_VWUM! _**Not to mention that **_VWUM! _**the waves were only about **_VWUM! _**two seconds apart now.

**_VWUM!_** The sensation was starting to **_VWUM! _**make her stomach churn. _**VWUM! **Oh gods! Please…** VWUM! **_She turned on her side, curling her legs closer to her chest. **_VWUM! _**A small whimper escaped her mouth as the sickness in her stomach grew, and grasped her knees even tighter. **_VWUM! _**She couldn't hold back anymore, it was getting to be too much.**_ VWUM! _**The entire room became louder with every pulse. **_VWUM! _**Everything had become a dull roar, the sounds blending into each other.**_ VWUM! _**

The soothing sounds of chimes blending into water, blending into the buzzing sound of the fans and the ticking of the clocks until each sound was no longer recognizable as individual.**_ VWUM! _**Something just occurred to her. **_VWUM! _**She couldn't hear the train above anything else. _**VWUM! **How much louder could it honestly get?_ **_VWUM! _**She had to ask didn't she? **_VWUM! _**She clenched her eyes together in wait for the next wave… And… Waited?

Nearly thirty seconds passed, and still no waves came. She eyed the statue again, wincing at the roar that now surrounded her. She grabbed her wand, and pointed at it from where she was on the floor, half crawling towards it, half slithering on her stomach. Finally she was where she needed to be for the spell to work. "_Marmoris ab lapideum dilabi!"_ Almost instantly the statue looked like it had just been cut up by a shredder, and fell to the ground, piece by piece. She cried out and dropped her wand again in favor of covering her ears as the thunderous sound of falling stone filled the room. The water, now without direction, spewed everywhere, including soaking Hermione, but she didn't care. "You won't have me on your walls. YOU WON'T!"

_**VWUM! **What? **VWUM! **More?** VWUM! **_Her stomach gave a violent lurch. **_VWUM! _**The wave was no **_VWUM! _**longer two seconds in **_VWUM! _**between the pulses. **_VWUM! _**It was going faster. **_VWUM! _**And now… **_VWUM! _**She found out why she **_VWUM! _**couldn't hear the **_VWUM! _**train before. It wasn't amplified **_VWUM! _**from the previous waves.

**_VWUM! VWUM! VWUM! VWUM! VWUM! _**The waves came in quick succession, coming so quickly Hermione felt as though she was going to be torn apart from the pressure. **_VWUM! VWUM! VWUM! _**

She cried out as she again curled into a fetal position. **_VWUM! VWUM! VWUM! _**She could no longer tell if the wetness on her face was simply from the spray off from the fountain, or if the water was mingling with her tears. The waves seemed to intensify, coming faster until it seemed there was absolutely no time in between. **_VWUM! VWUM! VWUM! _**

Then… It stopped. Without warning, and it made her stomach twist painfully. She now knew… As she now heard the train… _The Booming Room._ She now knew why it was called this. The thumps the train made as it hit the track before now sounded like reverberating booms. It was like an outside induced migraine, and she found herself sobbing from the sheer pain of it. None too soon she found out why the clocks were set to different times. A loud **_DONG!_ **bellowed throughout the room as one hit the marked time. As it continued, she lost her battle of wills with her stomach, and found herself losing the contents of it. She rolled over until she was propped up on her knees and did her best to bury her head. It was a long while before she lost herself to unconsciousness.

SSSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS

He sat in his chair and stared at the covered painting in front of him. He still had two weeks before the 'anniversary' of that night. Why couldn't the memories wait until then? Damnable old man… He steepled his fingers and put his joined thumbs to his lips. _What to do…_

It had been a year… An entire year since Draco had come to him for help. The boy had been frightened, assuming that he would help him, but not knowing for sure. The boy had no idea that he had been working for Dumbledore, and had risked his life on even going to him. _Not that it mattered, just a few short weeks later…_

Snape growled at the memory and jumped to his feet and stalked away from the painting, only to find himself pacing the floor. _He would not face the boy._ Not even if it _were_ just his painting. Not after his betrayal. Not after he had given his word… _HIS WORD…_ Obviously, it had meant nothing to him. He stopped pacing and took a deep breath. He forced his mind to become blank, grabbed his cloak and headed out towards Hogwarts _Cadacum Heroicus Ut Procare. _Fallen 'Heroes' indeed. In his mind, it was not at all heroic to save those who had no intention, nor wanted to be saved.

It took him nearly fifteen minutes to reach the ominous looking building. Standing at two stories high, made of black stone, it had a tall gate that went to its ceiling with glowing letters that held the initials _CHUP_ and a silver embossing three sizes smaller that spelled out the full _Cadacum Heroicus Ut Procare._ He stood a moment to look at it. He idly watched as the vines swayed and moved about the building, charmed to look as if they had a life of their own. He sighed and entered the building, and took note the moment he entered at the layers of dust. He felt the corner of his lip curl up into a sneer and retrieved his wand out of his robe. "_Constantia_ _Akoniti."_ The dust from the place immediately vanished and he strode to his destination, and muttered, "One would think this place would have more visitors, considering."

He passed the statues of fallen Aurors, until he reached the small sub-room within. He paused at the entry to read the inscription surrounding the door, not unlike that of the Mirror of Erised. _Liberi, furtivus immititer per malum._ How… Very dramatic of them to put that there. What was it with the all the bloody Latin anyway? Wouldn't have been easier to have just written 'Children, stolen mercilessly through evil,' instead of the Latin version of the same? Honestly, not even in the more magical communities did everyone know Latin. No wonder this place had been half abandoned.

The thought forced another sigh from his lips. It was sad really, that no one seemed to care enough of the sacrifices by the unknowns. Of course, the Ministry never made it well known about their sacrifices; they only listed the numbers for both sides. _Twelve Aurors, six officials and three students fell before He-who-triumphed became victorious._ They had once again focused all their attentions on Potter. He hadn't been surprised; in fact he had expected it.

He finally reached his destination. It was a minute dark corner in the small offset room where a tall statue stood with an encased tomb behind it. It was a foot taller than he was, and stood there proudly. He felt himself begin to shake and put his hand out to brace himself against the stone wall next to the memorial. It was carved perfectly, long hair tied back into a ponytail at the base of its neck with a few strands falling into its face. The figure was clad in quidditch robes and held a broom to the floor in one hand, and a wand loosely held in the other. A permanent smirk was carved on its lips with a slightly raised brow.

He stood away from the wall and clenched his fists next to his side as he moved closer to the statue. He narrowed his eyes. "Why… Why in the world did you do it?" He moved to sit on the ground, blankly gazing at the lifelike statue and lost himself to memory.

The statue stated; '_He proved himself true and fought his own Father, giving his life in the end for another. Forever bound in heart and memory, he lies forever loved upon Hogwarts grounds. Here lies Draco Malfoy, the true hero.'_

SSSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS:SSSSS

Constantia Akoniti- remain without dust

Cadacum Heroicus; ut Procare. – Fallen heroes; whose sacrifice made evil fall(basically)

Marmoris ab lapideum dilabi - Statue of Stone, fall to pieces.

(Forgive grammar or wording, I am not an expert in Latin)

A/N- Chapter 22 has already been written and I am currently working on chapter 23. The wait should not be nearly so long for the next chapter. As always, please review, it never fails to inspire.


	22. Memories of Old

A/N- I am so sorry for the immense wait for this chapter. My computer crashed on me six or so months ago and I lost the chapter, but have finally been able to retrieve it. Thank you for waiting so long, the next chapter will arrive much sooner. 

Disclaimer- Alas, this story belongs to another, not I.

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**Chapter 22- Memories of Old** _One year before…_

He stood back to back with Lucius Malfoy, tossing hexes and curses at Aurors, fending off attacks. The final battle commenced on neutral ground, roughly four miles from the school. Most students were safely away. _Most._ Except those few idiotic dunderheads who thought they could be of help. So stupid to think that they could help, or help with the tabloids. Wait… What? **_Bloody hell!_**

He tossed a hex towards a Death Eater off in the distance and stopped the curse mid-word that was aimed directly at Collin Creevey. Why was that idiot here? And with a camera no less! He tossed out a few more hexes when he noticed the boy's camera turn towards him. –_Flash-_ He swallowed a groan and aimed his wand at him. "_Petrificus Totallus!"_ A brief look of shock passed the boy's face as his finger stopped still on the shutter button of his camera just before he fell over. With luck, no one would step on the boy too much.

He felt Lucius move down behind him. He copied the movement, ducking underneath a small magical barrier as he did. Lucius spoke as he turned to him. "I'm to tell you something. It seems to have… slipped my mind these last few months."

He raised his brow. He could spot a lie from a mile away, and what Lucius said was definitely one of them. There was a reason for his silence. "So you remember this in the middle of battle and feel the dire need to tell me? How convenient."

"Of course my friend. You know how a bit of hexing jogs my memory."

Snape rolled his eyes and jerked his wand irritably towards the battle. "Get on with it. If you haven't noticed, there seems to be a war going on."

"My, aren't you impatient."

He narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth and took a breath to speak, but Malfoy didn't give him the chance.

"No need to get _testy, _I was about to tell you. The Dark Lord has appointed himself a bodyguard, and you are not to kill him."

"Really, who?"

Malfoy gave an uncaring shrug; a small smirk graced his lips. "I've no idea, just that Potter won't have the nerve to do what he needs to get past him. I find it quite amusing, don't you?"

_No, he did not, actually._ The bastard knew who it was. Damnable prat. "How that menace dies is of no concern to me, so long as he actually does."

"I've always admired your sentiments, Severus." Something banged against the barrier and Lucius frowned. "It seems we've been found." A quick swish of his wand and the barrier fell, both men ready once more for battle.

So, Voldemort found himself a new toy… But who? Two flicks of his wand and two Aurors were properly hexed to distraction. He could move. He gave a quick look back at them. One was doing his best to blast the swarm of bees hovering over him and the other was suddenly sprouting large daisies from every noticeable part of his body. He gave a deep-throated chuckle as he realized that the one he hexed with the daisies was none other than Remus Lupin himself. Well, better daisies than some of the other things he could manage. No, he was saving MOST of those curses and hexes for the most opportune moment.

The Aurors would be fine, just so long as they stayed out of his way. He ducked a few hexes and turned back to Lucius. "I'm heading further in. You should stay here and enjoy yourself a bit before catching up. You haven't the chance for non-rebuttal cursing in years."

A sickening smile slowly ebbed its way onto the blonde man's face. "I think I shall. Go on, I will catch up soon enough."

Severus gave a curt nod to him and fought his way deeper into the battle. Finally, after what seemed like an hour of non-stop spell tossing, he could see Voldemort in the distance. That meant Potter couldn't be far. He had to warn him to throw no stops with that guard, that Voldemort had thrown in an unforeseen defensive… Wait…

A slight tremor went coldly down his spine- that small tingle that made it feel like he was being watched. Wand at ready he twirled around, to find himself wand point to wand point with Alastor Moody. How bloody well brilliant. How tremendously, extensively fucking _brilliant._ Like he actually had time to deal with the annoying old twit! The old Auror's wild eye was pointed at him with all its intensity focused solely on him. **_"SNAPE." _**Alastor's good eye narrowed and his breath fell from his lips like a hiss.

Before Moody could start his accusations, Severus interrupted him. "Don't assume to know what I'm up to, Moody, it could lead to your untimely demise. I would suggest you move your wand to a better target before you irritate me enough to do something rash."

He gave a half laugh. "You want me to let you go?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I was actually suggesting we throw up a barrier and have ourselves a nice cup of tea amidst this glorious battle." He pulled his lip back into a sneer before he changed his tone from softly spoken sarcasm to a loud bellow. "OF COURSE I WAS TELLING YOU TO LEAVE ME BE YOU IGNORANT SOD!"

"I don't think I will."

Severus growled. _Oh for the name of Merlin…_ "I've no time for this! I would rather die by the tainted hands of Lucius than by you." He and Moody started to circle each other as both realized that action was soon to take place.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you took the Mark!"

Severus' voice went dangerously low. "I warn you, Auror, let me pass." Irritation made his hand twitch around the wood of his wand.

Moody made a grave mistake. He smiled. "Only when you are dead."

Moody's response caused rage to explode through him, that uncontrollable fury he fought to control, the fury that he had depended on for far too long in his youth. Before Moody could react, Snape's wand was in front of his face. "_Avada Kedavra!"_ The words had left his mouth before he fully realized what he was doing. The curse struck the man between the eyes. Moody's body flew backwards into the battle and was bludgeoned with a wet sounding 'Thwack' by a troll before he even hit the ground. Snape quickly turned from the bloody mess before him and returned to his task. It was Moody's own fault after all; he had been warned.

He slowly made his way around, circling the Dark Lord, searching for the Boy-Who-Would-Win-If-He-Had-A-Say-In-It. After fifteen minutes of carefully maneuvering around the battle, he heard a voice that sounded all too familiar. He paused in his search to find the voice amidst the chaos surrounding him, and finally found the owner. Weasley; or rather, _Weasleys_, two of them to be precise. Ronald and… _Percy?_ _Percy Weasley _was a Death Eater? When? He kept his eyes darting about him as he half watched the exchange, as abject horror grew in his mind. _It was true…_

Ever since the Granger girl's parents were murdered he suspected that he was found out. Now, with the knowledge that not only had the Dark Lord acquired a new bodyguard and that Percy had joined the ranks as a Death Eater and he had not been alerted to the fact, he knew for certain. _Shit._ He was found out, and was more than likely being used. _But for how long had they known?_ He shook his head to clear it from his thoughts. It no longer mattered. It was the day of the final battle; he had other things to worry about. Like, making sure that the imbecile in front of him didn't die in the exchange with his older brother. And then he had to find Potter. It wasn't like he planned on living through the day anyway.

No, he would not allow himself to die until he was able to get that brat the news of this new threat and intimidate him into taking the appropriate action to dissolve it, while promising the boy he would kill him if he did not. Which would mean the death of whomever the bodyguard might be if the boy still took to intimidation. Hopefully he did. Yes, that seemed like a plan…

He was brought out of his inner musings as a curse missed one of the Weasleys, cast by the other Weasley. He was not sure which one had done it, and it barely missed him. Until they were done with this annoying feud, he would have to keep a better eye on them. He briefly wished they would simply hurry it up, let Percy fall or die, or whatever it was he had to do, and force Ron to Apparate away from the battle so he could continue on his search and die happy. Surely the Fates would let him live long enough for that. After all, they forced him to live through everything else.

The boys lunged at each other, screaming obscenities as they fought hand to hand. It made Severus groan. All the magic in the world and they chose to fight with their bare hands. How very Gryffindor of them. They started to shout at each other, but didn't hear much of anything until towards the end, when he drew nearer. They almost looked like they were hugging as Percy pulled back from their fight long enough to deliver a small speech. "Pureblood or not, the rest of you are weak! I hate to even think that we are family. After we win, I'll make it my personal mission to destroy the lot of you, except… I think Ginny would make a good souvenir for the Dark Lord, don't you? After all, she proved useful once…"

"Arrogant PRAT!" The rest of Ron's response was lost on him, as he suddenly had to duck the club of a nearby troll. Was the battle not chaotic _enough _without having to bring _them?_ He disposed of the annoying creature as quick as he could before bringing his more basic attentions back to the Weasleys. He turned back just in time to watch them separate. There was a slightly audible _CRACK! _Percy held up what was once Ron's wand, and said something he couldn't quite make out. Ron let out a cry of fury and lunged at his older brother. "I won't let you!"

Severus swung around to defend the now wandless boy, but just as he was going to cast a hex at the older Weasley, there was a quick flash of metal. Ron screamed out in anger and the sound immediately blended in with a scream of both pain and surprise. Before him he saw Ron Weasley straddling his older brother, tears falling down his cheeks as he bludgeoned his own brother with a dagger. A gurgling whimper came from Percy's mouth as Ron ripped into his mutilated flesh again and again, choking on his own blood. After a moment Percy fell completely still as an icy feeling started to creep into his spine. Snape quickly scanned his immediate surroundings and found the culprits. _Dementors._ He swept forward, passing over the dead bodies of Aurors and Death Eaters alike until he finally reached Ron, who was still frantically plunging his dagger into Percy. It was clearly obvious that the idiot older Weasley was dead when he caught Ron's hand mid-motion.

"I think you're overdoing it, Weasley, he is dead. There is no need to mince him into small segments for adequate potions ingredients, as there is no time for it, no matter how pleasing it might seem for you. The Dementors are on the way."

Ron barely registered what Snape said as he looked down at what he had done, realization evident on his face. Snape could feel him start to shake as he pulled the boy up to his feet, and Ron dropped the knife like it burned him once his hand was free. His eyes went wide. "Merlin… I… What have I done? Percy… I… What have I?"

Snape rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to not slap the boy to his senses. "It had to be done. The other option wouldn't have been better for you. Apparate. Now. You have no wand, and there is obviously no longer any need for you. All you will do is serve as a distraction. Now go."

Ron just nodded, clenched his teeth and was suddenly gone with a 'crack'.

Snape turned and walked towards the Dementors as a sudden blast of light exploded through them. _Potter._ It had to be him. He fought his way through the crowd, getting annoyed about how many times he had to stop and fend off some idiot who thought it wise to keep him from his task. As the fourteenth was hexed away from him he vowed to himself that the next person to keep him from his mission, save Potter himself, would be dead without any hesitation on his part.

About eight minutes later the elder Goyle grabbed his arm. The man was about to say something, but Severus' wand was already at the man's throat. He sounded almost bored when _Avada Kedavra_ came from his lips, making the green light of the curse pulse from his wand and instantly killing the man. To hell with secrecy and keeping up appearances. If he were right about Voldemort knowing he was a spy, it wouldn't matter anyway. He quickly stepped over Goyle's body and continued on towards the mass of Dementors. He had no time for this.

He set his pace to a slight jog as he made his way towards the center of the Dementors, doing his best to ignore the sense of being watched, the sound of laughter inside of his head. The voices that mocked him, and told him things that tore him into pieces. _I would have said yes…_ He was only able to get through them because they had set up residence at the more recent revels; he had time to get used to it. Yet he still wanted to shrink back, pull himself into a ball, and hex something. _Keep going. Ignore it. _For some reason the beastly creatures did ignore him, they were all focused on one spot. He heard another shout of the Patronus Charm and he fell into a run. He was close, very close.

He came to a dead halt as he nearly hurled himself off of a small cliff. _Shit._ A blast of light half blinded him and a wave of Dementors was repelled past him. He had to suppress a laugh as one of the annoying trolls that for some reason made it this far into the battle clubbed four of the horrid creatures into the air. It was amusing really. In a way. He quickly pinched the bridge of his nose. _I'm losing my mind…_

He cast a small cushioning charm and jumped. He suppressed a groan as a small sharp pain shot up his back at the landing. He set his jaw and forced himself to stand. This was not the time for pain; there was enough time for that later. He forced his way forward through another wave of Patronus and spotted him. With _him. _Well, that would explain everything. He readied his wand. "Look at me," he whispered, "Look at me, Potter."

As if the boy had heard him, Potter turned towards him. "_Legilimens." _There was no hesitation as he was thrust into the boy's thoughts.

'_What do you want?' _The words came to him, unbidden.

He suppressed a smile. It had worked. _'The man you are fighting with is not who you think he is.'_

_'I don't believe you.'_

_'Test it then. Ask him something only he would know.'_

Potter turned to Sirius Black and spoke to him. A moment later his face contorted. He watched as Potter turned back to him, and felt the boy enter his mind. _'But its his body, his tattoos, scars… All of them…'_

So, the serpentine bastard had done it. Had brought a body back from beyond the veil, but left behind the soul. He had heard the rumors he was going to try, but he had done it. Sickening.

'_What of his soul?'_

'_Let me try something…'_ Perhaps if he could extract whoever it was in the body, he could summon the soul. It was worth a shot… He moved his wand towards Black and started the incantation when something suddenly slammed into his back. He gave a small cry and fell to his knees, his incantation forgotten. "_Fuck._" He turned to the one who had kicked him. "Afternoon, Lucius."

The man stood tall above him, his wand pointed at his head. "_Crucio."_ He swallowed his cry as pain suddenly wracked his body and forced himself to his feet. Pain he could handle.

He forced a smirk onto his face and realized that he had dropped his wand. How wonderful. "Thank you. I think I needed that."

"You think this is all a game? You have no idea how much I have put into this campaign. It is not just a political game, but also a game of pure survival. I have every intentions of keeping Draco alive. _Some _of us actually care about the lives of our children."

"But what a wonderful game it was. It's a bit sad that it is almost over."

"You _dare_." Lucius' face contorted in anger and Severus took a deep breath. When he had told Moody he would rather die by Lucius, he hadn't meant that to be taken literally. Oh well, there were worse ways to die…

At the exact moment that Lucius hissed out '_Avada Kedavra' _there was the sound of a crack. He waited for the curse to come, but instead found himself hurled on the ground, his back snapping in a way that made him almost feel numb. He was alive? He suddenly became painfully aware of a weight on top of him. He looked down and found a mass of limbs and blonde hair. _Draco…?_ He looked up to Lucius who stood stiff and wide-eyed. He clearly saw him mouth _Draco, you fool_ when a bolt of green light found the man's chest. The only satisfaction he had, was the look on Lucius' face as he killed his own son, granting him a vengeance he had never fathomed. A vengeance he had never wanted. Nausea overtook his senses, a faint high-pitched hum sounded within his ears and things started to grow blur together. _Let me die, just let me die…_

These thoughts were the last he had before he lost consciousness.

* * *

There were soft-spoken voices with him, mixing with the growing throb in his head. "Are you sure?"

"As I have said before, I will attest for him. He is the closest thing I have to a son. I have no desire to lose him now, not after all these years. That boy sacrificed himself so that he would live." It was the unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore.

"He has killed an Auror, and has the Dark Mark embedded on his arm."

"He cannot be tried for something that he has already been acquitted for. I vouched for him then, I will again."

"He is dangerous. Even you cannot ignore his background, his birthright. His mother-"

"-is not him." Albus' voice grew hard and unreceptive. Severus pried his eyes apart and groaned. "What that woman did to him has haunted him for his entire life. Those scars will never leave him. Do _not _place blame on him for her crimes." There was a pause. "Why, good evening Severus. I hope you are well."

He squinted his eyes, trying to focus. "Come to think of it, I believe I've been better."

The old wizard gave a small chuckle. "Ah yes, you are quite well indeed. I would like to speak alone with him, Fryderick."

"I think you are a fool for doing this." The man spoke as he opened the door.

Albus gave a small shrug as the door slammed shut. "Perhaps, perhaps." He turned to Snape. "You are free."

Severus turned his gaze to the ceiling. "Am I?"

"You no longer have the need to spy. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has finally been defeated. You have cleared your name, and I have vouched for your innocence in Moody's death. You are a free man, Severus. I can at least grant you that."

"I did kill Moody, Albus. You should have let them take me. What I do should not be your burden, I am sick of it." He had done it again. Had protected him against capture, forgiven the unforgivable. It was not the first time. His stomach wretched and he grimaced. He had that horrid feeling it would not be the last.

"They cannot prove it was you that killed him, and I will not offer the information. Harry told me that it was you who gave him the information he needed to win."

"It was a means to an end. It was why you insisted on keeping me alive all these years."

"There is no need to be morbid. I merely had the desire to correct my wrongs to you. Had I done right by you, perhaps the mistakes you have made would never have needed to pass."

A small uneasy silence passed between them, and Albus started towards the door. "You lied to me, Albus."

The Headmaster turned back to him, the door slightly ajar. "I don't recall lying to you."

"When I started this, you told me I would gain redemption as well as freedom."

Albus looked confused. "That was no lie, you have gained your redemption."

"You mistake my words Albus. I wouldn't consider redemption being alive because some idiot boy sacrificed himself to save a man who did not deserve it."

The Headmaster sighed. "Only Draco knows why he saved you. Be that as it may, take your freedom and live. You deserve it."

As Albus went to leave the room he whispered, "True freedom is only achieved in death." He looked over long enough to see a distinctive frown cross the Headmaster's face just before the door closed softly behind him.

He looked back up to the ceiling. The war had finally been won. Draco could have been free to live whatever life he wanted and instead he chose death to save a man who desired that exact fate. _He was alive_. It was malicious, and he would never forgive the boy for it. Never.

* * *

_The Present…_

The first thing she was aware of was the immense throbbing inside of her head. She groaned and instantly regretted it. It sounded so loud… She put her hands to her ears to find a large pair of earmuffs firmly planted against her ears. She went to move them.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." An unfamiliar voice came from her left and she turned to look at the speaker. "Removing the earmuffs, that is." The speaker was a boy, but it was too dark in the room to see who it was. "I was told some spell was used on you to make your ears touchy, and was put in charge to make sure you kept the earmuffs on." The boy paused for a moment. "However, I don't have the intentions of forcing you to do so."

"How old are you?"

"I will be ten in April."

"You are rather well spoken for someone so young." She giggled. "April is a ways off yet."

"Not really. It is less than a year away, so it isn't so horribly long." Another pause. "Who are you anyway? Wretch didn't tell me who you were, just that she had other things to attend to."

"Hermione Granger, and you are?" She was getting decidedly uncomfortable, not even knowing whom she was talking to.

"Eleutherios Damien Marshall. Call me Ell, it's easier on the tongue."

"Yes, I think it would be, its very odd."

"Mum says it means freedom. She named me that because my Father told her to 'be free' when she left him. So, I got stuck with an odd Greek name. Wonderful isn't it?"

"I can imagine… Would you mind turning on a light? I can't even see who you are…" Before she could say anything else, the room flooded with light, and she looked into the midnight black eyes of her visitor.

* * *

A/N- Thank you all for reading, and as always, please review, it never fails to inspire. Also, a small note to my beta Exessivelyperky, for without her I would never have been able to get this chapter back. 


	23. Ell

_**Chapter 23- Ell**_

She ignored the sudden wave of pain that shot through her head the moment the light came on. The sight of the boy before her forced too many questions to the surface of her mind to even notice the pain. He looked like…well, he looked like a miniature version of Snape, but the boy's features weren't as harsh as her Master's were. The boy had a thin, elongated nose; thin face; and straight, long, black, hair that was tied back with a dark green ribbon (which matched the formal uniform he was wearing.) He almost looked like a porcelain doll to her. "Who did you say your father was again?"

His eyes remained fixated on her, unblinking. "I didn't." He paused for a moment then, "Wretch did not mention that we were to exchange pleasantries. I am not familiar with you."

"I'm not familiar with you either, yet here I seem to be anyway. How do you know Wretch?" She propped herself up with her elbows as she spoke.

"She takes care of me." His sentences were short, to the point; his eyes still unwavering in their stare. "She is also my teacher until I go to wizarding school." He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "Why do you even care?"

"I was just curious."

The boy gave a small 'humph,' to which she responded, "Well I was. I just met Wretch the other day. I've never seen a house elf like it."

"Her."

What? "Pardon?"

"You said _it._ Wretch is a her."

"Oh." She threw her legs over to the side of the bed. "I apologize for misspeaking, then." She gave him a smile.

It was then his continuous stare faltered. "Thank you for apologizing."

"What of your parents, if you don't mind me asking?"

His posture went frigid. His lips pursed as if something was troubling him. If he had looked like Snape before, he bore a nearly frightening resemblance then. Just before she could apologize for asking, he spoke. "My Mum is never around. I can count on one hand how many two-day trips she takes to see me in a year, to see if I am still alive." He looked away fully then. "She says I remind her too much of my father, that I look just like him. I've never met him myself. Sometimes… Sometimes I look in the mirror, studying my features so that I really know what to look for in a crowd, just in case I walk by him someday. I don't want to miss him if I just walk by without knowing for sure. My Mum says he is a bad man, that she wouldn't be scarred if not for him. I just want to _know_… you know?" When she didn't even respond immediately he continued. "You don't need to answer. I don't see too many people, I guess I just needed to talk." He gave a half laugh. Almost immediately after, the lights popped off.

"What's going o-"

"**_SHHH!_**"

She heard a movement and then felt the boy's hand on her wrist. He gave a small jerk. "Wha-"

"Shh." He gave another jerk of her arm. Perhaps she was to follow him? Another jerk. She took that as a yes. Just as she figured out where she was, the boy quickly led her on a blind path. He turned her every so often, enough that she quickly lost where she had come from. _What was going on?_

A few minutes later he stopped suddenly. She heard him whisper "Steps." and pulled her forwards. He moved slowly, allowing her enough time to gain her footing on each step as they moved. After a repeat of this twenty-five more times, he led her forward on solid, level ground. She was thankful. He let go of her wrist and she heard a soft 'click'. Ell sighed. "We're safe now."

Suddenly lights flooded the room and she turned to take in her surroundings. She whispered an astonished "Wow…" Before her was a gigantic curving library with corridors, rooms, galleries and staircases that spanned three floors that went up to a dome in the center. Paintings filled the top of the domed ceiling; the gold trim fell from the center, trailed down the sides and spiraled around until the beams of glittering gold gracefully reached the floor. She had thought her Master's personal library was spectacular.

"I like it too."

She jumped at the sound of his voice, forcing her back into reality. He chuckled at her.

He continued. "This is the only room that is completely safe from the Monster Lady. Wretch made it sound and light-proof so that there would never be any worries while I live here." He walked past her and deeper into the enchanting rooms ahead.

"Monster Lady?" She followed him.

"Yes, she lives in the McCarthy house over the trees. It is a ways away, but one can never be too careful when dealing with her. People go in that house and never return." He looked at her then. "How did you get to be so lucky to end up in that place so near to Hades' heart? Wench said that she rescued you from there."

"My Master had me go to teach me the art of silence. Permanent silence is more like it."

He gave a laugh. "Very true. People die there." He looked away again and walked faster. "Sometimes, I hear their screams. I can't wait to be sent off for school."

She watched him, and adjusted her own pace to match his. Was he really being raised by Wretch? He was so easy to talk to…

He stopped at a large easy chair and jumped up into it. "Yes."

She stopped suddenly. "Pardon?" She noticed he was now facing her.

His face was oddly blank when he spoke, as if searching her face for something. He spoke slowly. "You asked if I was really being raised by Wench."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh…" She hadn't realized she had said that aloud.

"Actually…" He drew his knees up to his chest, his eyes began to shine with tears. "I don't think you did. Say that aloud, that is."

"You can read minds?"

He gave a small nod. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to. It's just… I can't seem to control it."

She gave a small smile. "It's all right. I will just have to be careful what I think, hm?"

He smiled in return. "I guess."

"So, with so many books, I would think there are some with some sort of games in them, don't you?"

He spoke quietly. "I think so."

She turned towards the expansive library. "Let's see what I can find then."

Just before she moved she heard a soft, "Thank you."

She turned back to the boy, genuinely puzzled. "For what?"

He didn't look at her when he answered. "For treating me as if I were normal."

She looked at him for a moment. She didn't think, nor say anything in response. She didn't need to. She merely smiled softly and asked, "So where do you think those games might be?"

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

It had been yet another day in his miserable life. The events of the final battle played in his mind in its entirety as if it were only a day ago that it had occurred. He had been wandering the halls for a full day, and slept in his private library.

He refused to return to his chambers. He had fled the moment he ripped into Draco's statue and carved that lightning bolt onto his collarbone. Now the statue was perfect. But he couldn't stay there; he had to leave before memories of the past devoured him. He had too many memories to dwell upon any of them. Instead, he headed to Miss Granger's new quarters.

When he entered he was overcome by that feeling again. Something was missing. No, something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Perhaps he had been misreading his intuition the past few days. He suddenly felt the urge to visit his apprentice. He pinched the bridge of his nose. It had only been five days since he dropped her off to study with Constance, if he went now…

He paused on that thought. Perhaps he could pull it off. All he had to do was set up the perfect excuse. But what? He started to pace, his hands clasped behind his back as he sifted through different scenarios.

"What in the world are you up to?"

He froze at the voice. _He had forgotten that he had placed one wizard painting in that room._ "I have no intentions of conversing with a painting at this moment, so if you do not mind, I have a dilemma to attend to." Why did the boy track him down to this room?

"Well, that is a fine hello for someone who _saved your life._"

He sharply turned his gaze to the offending canvas. "I did not, nor ever did I even remotely desire for you to do that, you idiot boy." Why couldn't the boy just have left him alone?

"I think, Professor, that it may a bit late for that." Draco gave his best smirk from within the painting and crossed his arms. "Besides, it was worth it to see the look on your face now."

He thought of something. "I hope you realize that you currently are in Hermione Granger's room."

Unfortunately, Draco ignored the comment. "You know, there will be a school meeting tomorrow. It hasn't reached everyone yet, and I thought you might like to know."_ That was it!_

Snape drew his lips into an offending sneer. "As amusing as it is to converse with the one who has condemned me to breathe, I've no desire for idle chatter with you. Good day." He quickly turned and immediately left the room. He couldn't have very well thanked the arrogant boy, now could have he?

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

They were in the middle of playing a game of cards, one that Hermione was losing, when Wretch arrived with a small 'pop'. "Miss Hermione's Master has arrived. Wretch must get her ready for him." It quickly moved towards the earmuffs on her head.

She shied away from it. "Ell told me it wasn't wise to remove these things."

Wretch jumped up and tried to get to them again. "Miss Hermione can't be out rattling her tongue to her Master about things that simply must not be shared."

Her eyes widened at Wretch's words. "I just simply can't just _forget_ what happened to me in that house! If he were to inquire as to what happened I very well should tell him what happened. And furthermore-"

The annoying little creature managed to grab hold of the earmuffs on her ears and tug. They then fell swiftly to the floor.

She screamed. Partly. The moment the muffs came off everything was amplified again, as if she were back in that bloody room. Instinctively she clasped her hands to her ears as she again felt herself falling to her knees. _Not again!_ She could hear herself whimper, though it almost sounded like a sickening scream. She felt something prying at her arm. Everything was so loud that she couldn't even distinguish one sound from another, everything roared. Finally whatever it was prying on her arms was successful and she felt something cold being shoved in her ear. She sighed, then winced in relief.

Wretch grabbed her other arm, and this time she did not resist as she once again, more gently this time, stuffed something cold in her ear. She went to touch her ears. "DON'T!"

She looked over to Wretch. "What did you put in my ears?" It was a bit louder than when she was wearing the earmuffs, but it was bearable.

"A potion, and don't touch it. Master needs to see you, and not a word of what really happened, Miss Hermione. There are certain things that he best not discover, for his own sanity." With that she grabbed her arm, and both left. Ell merely watched as they left, and then, when fully alone, he made his move. He had won.


	24. Return to Hogwarts

_**Chapter 24- Return to Hogwarts**_

_**A/N- Sorry for the long wait, this is still a bit unpolished, but it will have to do. Currently working on the next chapter, so don't worry, I will eventually finish this :) **_

She found herself staring at her master. He was standing impatiently, his weight slightly shifted to his left foot. His arms were folded tightly against his chest, with a slight curving of his upper lip that formed a disgusted sneer. She had never seen a more welcome sight in her life. It took all of her strength not to jump up and hug the man, but she managed. Unfortunately, she couldn't seem to hold back her smile. "Hello, Master Snape."

His eyes seemed to bore holes into her skin, the way he stared. "Miss Granger." He spoke slowly, cautiously. He raised a brow. "I do hope your stay was beneficial."

She felt her smile fade. A small chill echoed throughout her body and her stomach dropped. _Did he have any idea what had happened?_ "Of course." Probably not. Git.

He narrowed his eyes. For a moment he did not say a word as his unfaltering gaze lay on her, making her feel uneasy. Suddenly he averted his eyes. "I believe you have forgotten something, Miss Granger, as you are rather empty-handed."

The potion! "Oh.. Well, I… You see, what happened was," Just before she could try to explain herself, Wretch appeared.

"Wretch apologizes, Master Snape, she is so very forgetful lately. Miss Hermione's potion is in her bag." Wretch handed the bag to him, placed her long grayish hands on her embroidered skirt, and then curtsied.

Snape's features seemed to soften slightly, then nodded. "Thank you, Wretch."

Hermione found herself watching them dumbfounded. He almost was… _civil_… with the elf. It was simply odd to see him be nice like that to anyone, especially with the way he looked at it. He didn't seem to be annoyed or disgusted, but _pleased_. Yet another piece to her mystery to solve.

"It is Wretch's duty to do as you ask, Master Snape. He knows this, does he not?"

"Need you ask?" He brought out his wand.

"Perhaps." The creature's mouth turned upwards into a grimacing smile. "Wretch doesn't always know what Master Snape thinks."

He quickly shrank the bag with a silent swish of his wand, placed it in his pocket and brought his eyes back to the elf. "You should feel blessed for that fact." His eyes briefly passed by Hermione. "I believe we must go, if we are to arrive before dinner." He pulled something suspiciously familiar from his pocket. "Just remember that I may call you whenever I desire, which may now be more frequent than in past years."

"Of course." Wretch gave Snape a creepy looking smile, then a slight nod in Hermione's direction, gave another curtsy, then was gone.

"Peculiar creature, isn't it?"

"She, Miss Granger."

She moved her head to him. She hadn't realized she said it loud enough for him to hear. "Oh, sorry, sir." She eyed the small trinket in his hands. _Please, for once let __my__ intuition be wrong._

His only response was a slight grunt, and he flicked his wand at the object in his hand. As soon as it started to grow, her stomach dropped. No, she was right after all. _Damn_.

He simply had to be joking. There was simply _no _way that he would even _think_ that… Just… no… "Um… Sir?"

He didn't seem to notice, or rather, he simply seemed to ignore her. "It seems to be a decently nice night out, don't you think, Miss Granger?"

Uh-oh, he was speaking to her nicely. "Well, yes, its just-"

He interrupted her. "You really wouldn't want to miss out on such a wonderful evening, would you, Miss Granger?"

"Actually I would, because… We're not going to go back to the school-" She took a deep breathe before continuing, "On that, are we?"

"Of course we are." A quick and sudden smirk fell his lips, and he raised his brow. "Is there a problem, Miss Granger?"

She spoke slowly. "Well, no…"

He mounted the large black broom, and motioned for her to follow suit. "We do not have all night, Miss Granger, I suggest that we leave immediately."

She managed to stammer out a 'yes, sir', then quickly mounted the broom. She grabbed hold of his shoulders as the ground seemed to fall from beneath her feet. She gave a small squeak when she looked down. How did they get so high so fast? She suddenly had the urge to throw up.

"Afraid of heights are we?" She couldn't see his face but from his bemused tone, she was sure he was smiling in some form or another.

"No." _Liar._

"I see." Suddenly the broom lurched forward and they fell full speed towards the ground.

She screamed. For a moment she felt like she was going to fall off the broom, so she grabbed hold of the only thing she could for leverage. Snape. She found her arms, entirely of their own volition darn them, snaked their way around his midsection, her hands clasped together. She clang to him for dear life. Slowly they came to a halt midair, and she could hear his deep chuckle from in front of her. "Pray tell, what happens to be so funny?"

"I thought you just said you weren't afraid of heights?"

"Obviously, _sir, _I was lying." They lurched forward then stopped again.

"Do you mind loosening your grip?"

She looked down at her hands, and felt her cheeks grow hot. _Oops._ "Sorry." She unclasped her hands, then respectfully moved them back to his shoulders.

"Contrary to popular belief, I do actually need to breathe in order to survive."

She muffled a laugh. She closed her eyes and simply focused on her own breathing. She had finally escaped the house, and yet… All she could do was think of poor Ell… She forced the thought out of her head. This she could handle, this she had chosen for herself. The man in front of her would be a mainstay in her life for the next four years, whether she liked it or not, and she had only herself to blame. She did her best to clear her thoughts and just simply enjoy the ride to the best of her ability. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the cool air that tickled her face. For the twenty minutes of the ride, there was no other sounds, except for those of nature itself. She found herself relaxing, a little too much. Thanks to the atmosphere and a _very _comfy cushioning charm, the last thing she could remember for the trip, was her forehead falling against her Master's back.

The following thing she noticed was the pain of her bottom hitting the ground. "Ouch!" Had she really fallen asleep? Flying no less?

"Perhaps then, you will think twice about falling sound asleep during a forty minute broom ride, Miss Granger. In the meantime, I desire you to get up and deposit yourself, as well as your things, into your room." He carelessly tossed her now fully-sized bag in her direction.

She gave an attempt to catch the bag, but she was caught off guard when he threw it. She winced as she heard glass shatter from within the bag. "My potion!" She quickly opened it, hoping to salvage her clothing from the remnants of the potion, but they were dry. "What in the…"

"It's soaked in, obviously. Perhaps you should pay more attention to your studies, which, as it seems, you have some work to do." He harshly turned and walked away from her, his robes billowing behind his silent form.

She turned back to the broken bottle, partially in her hand. "Why must you be so uncooperative?" She quickly cleaned out the remaining glass, picked up her bag and stalked into the school. Though she was seething at her Master for once again ruining her perfectly good potion, at least her feet were on the ground.

When she reached her room she dropped her things and her mouth dropped open in horror. _He didn't…_ She flew to the closet, then the bookshelves, then the drawers next to the bed. Gone. All of it gone… From parcels of clothing to books to pictures, everything that she used to study or could call her own was just… gone. She suddenly remembered why she hated Snape. Damnable bastard. To hell with being happy to see him, though a welcome sight he might have been to Constance Monroe. She would throttle him if she saw him anytime soon. She groaned and fell face first on the bed--the only thing still fully furnished in the room--and screamed into the pillow.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

There was something wrong. He didn't know what it was, but there was something definitely wrong. She was far too comfortable around him, far too _happy _to see him. He could tell that she was trying to hide it, but there was a definite smile there when she first appeared. She was relieved, but from what? Had it really been so horrible to be around Constance? He fell heavily into his chair and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Her trip was supposed to be a break from all this. She had nearly died twice in his care already, and he also needed the week to try and recompose himself. _Though, he didn't last a whole week, now did he?_ He grunted at his own thought process, and returned to his musings. What did Constance say to her that made her want to return so eagerly? How much of his sordid past did she reveal? Considering that the girl didn't give him _that _look when she had seen him. Pity, he hated that wretched look. Anytime anyone took a glimpse into his childhood he would see that look or hear something like '_poor Severus, no wonder he ended up the way he is…' _He snorted. _Fools, all of them._ It was his own damnable fault how he ended up, though he could never seem to convince anyone of that fact, especially Albus.

No, he simply took too much pleasure in harming or frightening others, but at least he was better about it than he used to be. He gave a small shudder at the barrage of images that pressed through his memory, then forced himself to focus on something else. Speaking of frightening others… He took the broom out of his coat pocket and put it back into its proper place in the desk in front of him. It was a brilliant idea, really. Not only was he able to retrieve the annoying girl early, but he had also found a way to coax out of her the fact she was devilishly afraid of heights. His lips twitched upwards, dangerously tempting him into a smile as he remembered her scream. Yes, definitely worth that short bit of her clinging to him. He was actually quite pleased with himself in that respect, considering that he was extremely tempted to throw her off the broom for it, or hex her for it. Perhaps even both.

"It's about time that you came back, thought you would never return."

Severus nearly fell out of his chair. He quickly grabbed hold of the desk to keep himself from picking up his wand and throwing an Unforgivable towards the canvas. Damnable portraits, they never made a sound when they entered a room. "I don't recall uncovering your painting, Malfoy."

The annoying sod in the oil portrait leaned against the stippled table, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "You didn't. I asked Dobby to, and the stupid creature was more than willing to comply." He paused a moment, "Had I known that I could startle you as a painting, I might have considered dying sooner." He gave a half laugh.

"Not funny, Mr. Malfoy, I hardly recall your death being a pleasant matter." Suddenly he realized something was a bit off.

"I suppose that depends on certain opinions."

He chose not to respond as he began to look through his papers. Everything seemed to be accountable, his lists of books and ingredients that he would soon send to his students, and the new student roster as well as his lesson plans. Malfoy said something else, but he didn't pay close enough attention to catch what. Soon he found himself sorting through drawers and files. He had that odd, nagging feeling that he was forgetting something again.

"Professor Snape?"

He heard him that time. Irritably he turned his gaze back to the portrait. "_**What?"**_

The boy pointed to a shelf on a nearby armoire. "Is that plant meant to look so brown? It simply looks pathetic."

He frowned. "I don't believe it is." He examined the poor thing carefully, turned it this way and that way to get a better view of it. Yes, it was completely and utterly dead. There wasn't even the slightest hint of green to it. When was the last time he'd watered it anyway? Considering he couldn't remember, he chalked it up to the thing he was forgetting to do, and tossed the poor dead chia pet in the trash. It was too bad really, he had grown attached to the stupid Muggle thing.

He did his best to clear the loss of it from his mind and focused on something else. It was almost time for dinner, so he could go fetch the girl. Quickly he went to her room, ignoring the portrait, if it actually _did _say something, or he, or… whatever one could consider the thing. He smirked, her room was so close to his own now. All that separated them really, was his personal library and one other room. Thankfully the hall was rounded, so it wouldn't seem to be part of his own rooms. It would be so much easier to keep an eye on her that way. He gave a knock. Silence. He waited for a moment longer, sighed and knocked again. When he again received no answer he began to get a little irritated. _Arrogant little…_ Without another thought he threw open the door. "_MISS _Granger, if you would like to keep yourself fully intact I would suggest that in the future you _answer your door." _He had his wand ready just in case of some odd reaction from said girl. She _was _after all, acting quite strangely, and he was not about to take chances. He advanced into the room, his wand ready in case she pop out from around a corner. Just before he entered the attached lab, he heard a familiar voice, though not the one he was anticipating.

"Miss Granger? You mean the bloody know-it-all that was always glued to _Potter?"_ The last word sounded as if it were spit out as if it were poison. "You were actually telling me the truth?"

_Of course, Draco._ "Must you annoy me by following me everywhere, you insolent sod?" He followed the voice into the lab from the small entertaining room.

"What do you expect? I died for you, my dearest Professor." His words were spoken far too sweetly for the person they were coming from.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit the dead, Mr. Malfoy."

The image of him gave a small 'humph'. "Well, did you realize that the brains of the golden trio actually is not here?"

Oh. "Do _you _realize that unwanted portraits should mind their own business, unless turpentine sounds appealing to you, of course." So _that _was the important thing that he had forgotten. He quickly turned on his heel and left the girl's quarters. He turned and went to her old room. He took a deep breath, considering what he had been up to, she would probably have noticed the room was rather… lacking… a few things. In other words, she would more than likely be seething. He set his jaw, donned as bored an expression he could muster, raised his hand and knocked.

_**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS**_

It had only been about half an hour since she found her room in ruins when she heard a knock at the door. Lazily, she stood up from the bed and shuffled to the door. She _was _happy to be back to Hogwarts, though she was also depressed because of the state of her room and infuriated because Snape would stoop so low just to make her miserable. All in all, it wasn't a very pleasant mixture of emotions. So when she opened the door and found the very man who had sent her away and stole her things, in that precise order, she found herself a little more than overwhelmed.

He was just standing there looking bored, _**bored**_of all illogical things to be. Her fists clenched at her sides as she felt something inside of her snap. All the emotions of the past few days rose in her and she couldn't seem to control them. Her mind told her it wasn't wise to yell at her Master, but it seemed to make no difference in the slightest. She felt her face get hot and she took a step towards him, feeling angrier than she had ever remembered being before. "Do you honestly feel happier now that you've taken my things?" Every word she spoke grew louder, more firm, yet she felt her eyes starting to water. "I can't believe that you would-" She was stopped short.

Snape lowered his wand and raised his brow, still looking overly bored with the whole situation. "Are you quite finished? I believe we have a dinner to attend." He stood back from the door and motioned his arm in the traditional 'after you' fashion, looking at her in a way that almost made it seem as if he were daring her to decline.

She was tempted to, but chose not to in the end. She hastily swept past him, silently grumbling horrible things under her breath as she did so. Perhaps Ron was right from the very beginning after all. She was sure if that man had any say in the matter, she would end her first year being admitted to St. Mungo's.

She walked as silently as she could, nearly wincing with every step as her shoes hit the floor. It was almost painful to hear. She clenched her hands in a quick pulsing movement and took in a deep breath, she was fine. Wretch had put the salve in her ears, and she was fine. She tried to believe it. Soon she entered for dinner and was annoyingly bombarded by hugs. The first she didn't mind so much. "Oh, Miss Granger, lovely to see you've returned! We must get together sometime for tea, hm?"

She gave a polite nod. "Of course, Professor."

It was the next hug that put her in a bad mood. Trelawney, the horrible, hated and most rude Divinations teacher she had ever had the displeasure of ever meeting. The annoying, disheveled woman grabbed hold of her and clasped her shoulders with a deep squeeze. "Oh! I'm so happy to see you, I thought you'd never return!" She stood back slightly and gave her a large toothy grin.

Hermione was surprised, disgusted, horrified and unnerved, but mostly disgusted. She did her best to give a smile back to the woman when a dark figure came from behind her shoulder.

"The girl's just returned from a long trip, I'm sure she would be more than happy to catch up with you later, Sybil."

The woman gave Snape an odd look. "Oh, that isn't necessary, not necessary at all." She gave a strange unreadable look, turned from them and took her seat at the opposite end of the table.

He leaned into her ear, and though the words hurt in the literal sense, she nearly found herself laughing at him. "She happens to be loopier than an over-wound clock, you know. She'll never remember hugging you."

Before another word was spoken she quickly seated herself so that her Master would be seated between her and her old Transfiguration teacher. She did this because as glad as she was to be back from that horrible place, she was hardly in the mood for idle conversation. Besides, it was beginning to give her a rather nasty headache. She was sure that if Snape had not intervened, she would surely have ended up hexing the seer just to see the look on her face when she did so. Her lips curved up into a small malicious smile as she stared at the plate in front of her.

After a moment or two of her old professors exchanging miscellaneous words, Snape snapped out an, "Obviously she has returned, Minerva," and coolly slid into the seat next to her just as the main meal was served. The rest of the meal went silently. She settled for poking at her food, and noticed that her Master was doing the same. She did her best not to stare at him, his dark hair covered up most of his face as he sat staring at his plate, fiddling with his fork. She averted her gaze and looked towards the door. "Sir, if you don't mind, I think I will head back to my room."

He gave a slight nod of his head and she rose from the table and trekked back to her room. Her nice, big, empty room. She gave a sigh as she entered.

"Missing something, Miss Granger?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin and turned abruptly to him. "Must you always sneak about?"

"I hardly was sneaking. Had you merely glanced behind you at any turn on the way here, you would more than likely spotted me, I'm afraid."

She tried to come up with something equally witty in reply, but nothing was making itself apparent. He had practically given her a heart attack to ask her if… Wait… "What _did _you do with my things?"

One corner of his lips turned slightly upwards. "I thought you'd never ask. Grab your bag, I've something to show you." He stood back against the doorjamb, his arms crossed and looking far too pleased with himself. What was he up to now? She quickly grabbed her bag and returned.

He gave a light push off the door and turned from her, walking further down the hall towards his personal library. "Follow me."

She obliged. It was not too horribly far from his library when he rounded the corner slightly and then stopped abruptly. She nearly ran into him, but thankfully stopped herself short by a few centimeters.

He turned and raised a brow. "Perhaps you will learn to stop running into me after all. It seems there may be hope yet." He turned to the door and opened it, and allowed her first entrance.

She hesitantly entered the room and gasped. Her things! The room was beautiful, small with a door to either side, as well as two small loveseats between them in a corner that peaked at the back of the room shaped like a diamond. "Is this…?" She turned her head to him.

He gave a short, shallow nod. "It is. To the right is your bedroom, to the left is a lab. It will be of more convenience to you to have your own lab for the duration of the school year."

She smiled and turned to her new treasures. She first checked out the lab and was surprised to find a wizard painting there. It was perfect, a scenic scene of a field with a lone tree in the background covered in ivy. It was simply beautiful the way it moved in the frame with the wind. She turned and gathered in her surroundings. She was simply ecstatic at the layout. Five thin long tables with a small multitude of supplies and three chairs, two chalkboards and a mini vent towards the top of the room. It was perfect! After a few minutes of inspecting the miscellaneous supplies and ingredients that were now provided her, she went to see her bedroom. She nearly gasped. Most of her bedroom was floor to ceiling bookshelves, leave a few spaces here and there. She stopped dead in her tracks. The frame. He put the frame in her room, the one that had intrigued her for so long. She stared at it a few moments when she noticed him watching her casually from the other room. His eyes were narrowed and his lips thin, there was something bothering him. She turned and walked to him when she noticed something next to the entrance door. A large immaculate clock made of marble and quartz.

She froze as she stared at the thing. It was beautiful, true, but something about it made her feel squeamish. It would definitely have to be removed when he was gone. She tore her gaze away from it, doing her best to compose herself. "I don't know what to say, its simply… wonderful. Thank you."

"It was nothing, it is merely to provide more convenience to the both of us. Good night, Miss Granger." He gave a curt nod of his head and turned from her.

She gave half a smile and turned to her room. Just before she could enter a sharp pain shot through her head. She felt herself scream as she grabbed for her ears. Had the effects worn off? She felt herself panic a moment before all she felt was the pain of it. She felt tears running down her face and her knees seemed to fold, though she barely noticed. A voice seemed to boom out but she couldn't tell what it was.

"HOW FUCKING LONG?" His voice was spoken in a whisper, but harsh and direct.

It was almost as if he had shouted in her opinion. He had figured it out, what had happened to her. "I don't know." She was looking at him at eye level and she noticed that she was being held up by him at her shirt.

His lips went thin, released her as if she were poison and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
